What's Right in Front of You
by iCarlyAngst
Summary: Sam's life is far from perfect, but she gets by with the help of her best friend Carly. Something traumatic happens and she has to turn to Freddie for help. The hatred subsides and they realized that there is something else there. Something more. AU/OOC
1. A spoonful of peanut butter

A/N

So, this is something very adult, and very different for me…let me know if you like it! REVIEW PLEASE!

OFFICIAL SEAL OF EDITED. THANK YOU BETA!

Chapter 1: A Spoonful of Peanut Butter is the Breakfast of Champions

SamPOV

_I hate my days off. I hate this bed. I hate this trailer_. I lay in bed, staying as quiet as possible as I heard my mother open my door and come in. _Just pretend you're asleep, pretend you're asleep._

I heard her trying to be as quiet as possible as she rifled through my pockets of the uniform I wore the night before, no doubt taking the cash in my front pocket. I'm not an idiot. My tens and twenties are in the bra that is on my body. I left 2 fives and a couple of ones in the pocket so my mother would take that and think that's all I made. I'd made the mistake of leaving my pockets completely empty, only to be smacked repeatedly for "hiding" money from my mother. Even though the money is mine, hard earned as a waitress in a shitty diner, she claimed that I owed her for the years that she raised me. Psh. That's a stretch. Raised is a loose interpretation of what she did to me. I'd spent most of my life alternating between avoiding beatings from her when she was drunk, and cleaning her up when she was passed out. Not sure on what planet that is considered raising a child, but I'm pretty sure it's not here.

Don't start feeling sorry for me; I'm not a pity case. This so called raising made me into a pretty tough chick, something I'm pretty proud of. I can not only take care of myself at 17, but I can take care of my friends when they need it. No one messes with me. I'm not a bully, by any means, but people fear me to some extent. I like it that way. Better to fear me, than make fun of me, or worse, feel sorry for me. I might be rough around the edges but I have people that know the real me, people that I can let my guard down around. I'm very lucky that way.

Which reminded me of where I could go today. Carly and Spencer wouldn't mind if I hung out at their place today. Only 4 more weeks till I can get my own place. I couldn't wait to turn 18. I had enough money for a decent apartment, but no one wants to rent to a 17 year old. I faked an ID about a year ago to get my own place, but my mother found out that her personal ATM had moved out and called the police, claiming that I'd "run away" and created a sob story about missing her little girl. Fucking ridiculous. I "accidently fell down the stairs" the night I was returned home by the cops. The ER failed to notice that we live in a single story trailer.

To avoid further bodily injury, I was quietly waiting until July 23rd.

Carly is the only one who knows all of this. Carly, my best friend since we were 11, and her older brother Spencer are more than friends to me. They are my family. The only family that matters anyway. As I lay there trying to be perfectly still and quiet, I thought back to how I first met her.

Carly showed up on a warm fall school day. She was absurdly pretty. She was taller than me and had long dark brown hair and huge dark brown eyes the shape of almonds. She had just moved here because her parents had died in a car accident and was living with her older brother.

Jason Kart, the class bully, who had failed the 6th grade at least twice and had a moustache (something that even us 6th graders knew was just wrong) was being very cruel to her. Most likely because he liked her. But she was ignoring him, which only made him fuel the cruelty and increase his efforts. He made a crack that her parents had died on purpose to get away from her, and Carly ran out of the room crying. That was the last straw for me. I didn't mess with Jason as a rule; we sort of understood each other. He came from the same background as me. Heck, we lived in the same trailer park. I knew all about his drug dealer dad and his whore mother. I knew that his older brothers beat the shit out of him. But all of those things are just excuses as to why he was the way he was. I wasn't like that. I wasn't a bully. I had a shitty life too and I sure as hell didn't take it out on undeserving people.

Truth be told, I was a little jealous of the fact that Carly's parents died. I'd never tell her that, it's totally fucked up, and I can certainly understand why she was devastated. I'm sure I'd be devastated if I had parents that were worth more than their weight in shit. But Carly was as undeserving of her parents dying as she was having that asshole, Jason Kart torture her about it. So I made sure that after school, while everyone was waiting for the bus, that Jason Kart got a kick in the nuts and then in the face as he dropped to his knees. I spit on him, and told him that if he ever talked to Carly again, I'd cut "it" off. I was serious. He knew that.

Carly saw the whole thing go down and looked shocked and a little afraid. I walked up to her, with the whole class, and most of the school watching.

"Hi. I'm Sam. I don't think he'll bother you anymore."

"Umm… thanks." She replied uneasily. "I'm Carly, but I guess you know that."

"Yep. You got anymore of those chocolate covered pretzels you had at lunch?" I knew she did because I watched her eat them, while I hid out of sight, I didn't want anyone else to notice I didn't have a lunch.

"Yeah, I do." She grabbed them out of her bag and offered them to me.

"Thanks." I said.

"You're welcome." She said back. She went to get on her bus and I followed.

"So, I'm gonna hang out at your house." I announced as we sat together.

"Umm…okay." She said, smiling, and I knew she didn't mind. It was sort of refreshing. Someone who didn't know anything about me. I mean, no one really did, or no one really knew the WHOLE truth, but they theorized. They assumed. And I did nothing to prove them wrong or right. I didn't want to start off on the wrong foot with Carly. I'd always be truthful with her.

We arrived at an apartment in a really nice neighborhood. The front door actually had a doorman. I tried to hide my shock, but apparently I wasn't doing a very good job.

"I know. It's crazy fancy here, right?" She said with a little giggle. "I'm not used to it either."

We took an elevator up to the 3rd floor and got out, only to find two apartments on the whole floor.

"Wow. You guys have half a floor? Are you like, totally rich?" I asked, totally forgetting my manners, whatever I had of them.

"Umm… I don't know. When my parents died… I guess they must have had money saved for Spencer and I…." She trailed of, clearly uncomfortable talking about either money or her parents, or likely both.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I'm sorry about your parents too. That sucks." I said uncomfortably, not really knowing what to say.

"Yeah, it does suck." She replied sadly.

We went into the apartment and I looked around. There were instruments everywhere. Piano, guitars, drum sets, every kind of horn and percussion instrument that I'd ever heard of and some that I hadn't.

"My parents were musicians… so is my brother." She explained.

With that, Spencer entered the room. He was tall, and looked just like Carly… well, the male version of her. He was gorgeous with the same dark hair that was molded into careful disarray. He was tall, around 6 foot 1 and had a very muscular physique. He had tattoos going up and down both arms and a piercing through his lip. My poor 6th grade hormones were going crazy. He was the poster child for "bad boy".

I playfully flipped my blonde hair over my shoulder and batted my eyelashes at him while I waited for an introduction.

"Sam, this is my brother Spencer. Spencer, this is Sam." She gestured a hand toward me and I waved.

He smiled genuinely at me and waved back. "Oh Sweet! Pleased to meet you Sam. I'm so stoked Carly made friends already!" His voice was hypnotic; no wonder he was a musician. I was sure I was drooling at this point. Carly didn't seem fazed by my reaction towards him. My guess was that she was used to it. With looks like that, I was sure women were constantly throwing themselves at him.

And with that thought, a stunning redhead came into the living room, scantily clad in a men's dress shirt and nothing else. She smiled a fake, plastered on smile when she saw Carly and I, and leaned in toward Carly, hands on her knees, as if she was talking to a toddler.

"Oh, my! You must be Carly! I've heard so much about you!" The redhead cooed out.

I looked over at Carly who looked like she was trying not to roll her eyes.

"I'm Destiny."

"Of course you are." Carly grumbled.

I laughed.

Everyone looked at me. I looked at Carly, who was smiling a big, goofy smirk.

"Spencer, I'm gonna go show Sam my room." She said as she sent him a pointed glance that I later learned to mean, "We will talk later."

Carly left the room and I followed her up the stairs, offering an obligatory wave to Destiny and Spencer.

She opened her door and threw her backpack in a corner, I followed suit. Her room was enormous. But I had expected as much from the rest of the apartment. It was very… pink. And girly. And pristine. There were dolls and stuffed animals everywhere, and most of them looked brand new, never used. There was a huge canopy bed in the middle of the room and an oversized desk against the window, which overlooked the front street. But the main thing about the room that I noticed was the books. Along the entire back wall of the bedroom were built in shelves, from floor to ceiling, and they were filled with books. I wasn't so sure we were going to click. I wasn't what you would call a "school person." Not to mention I was the polar opposite of princess.

Carly sat on her bed and watched me while I checked out her room. It's a personal thing, a girls' room, and I couldn't even dream of bringing anyone into mine, so I could understand that she was sharing with me a very private part of herself by inviting me up.

"Your books are awesome." I said finally, not really knowing what to say.

She sighed. I looked over at her and immediately wanted to apologize, though I had no idea why.

"They belonged to my parents. Most of them anyway. I haven't even started reading anything. I just wanted to keep them."

I nodded, again, not knowing what to say. There was more silence and it was obvious that I was going to be the talker today.

"You have a ton of stuffed animals!" I stated, feeling like an idiot for stating something so obvious.

She snorted this time. This girl's reactions were really keeping me on my toes.

"I'm sorry, I must look like a total psycho." She shook her head while she said it.

I looked at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation for the reaction.

She took a deep breath. "Well, since you took a big risk for me today, I guess I can tell you about me… if you want to know?" She asked.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't!" I added cheerily.

"Well, you know my parents died, and you know I live with my brother. I moved in a few weeks ago, but I just haven't been ready for school, ya know?"

I just nodded.

"So, when I moved in, my brother's girlfriend at the time, Fate or Heaven, or Hope or Serenity or some other ridiculous stripper name, she wanted to help decorate my room. I didn't give a crap about decorating, being that my parents had just died and all, but my brother insisted that I try to do some normal stuff. So she brought me to the store and I just nodded any time she pointed at something she liked. Hence the pepto pink and the stuffed animal farm I have. I'm definitely not the princess this room portrays."

"Oh, thank god." I breathed a sigh in relief. "Not that I wouldn't have liked you if you were, but I'm DEFINITELY not the princess type. But I think you probably already knew that, being that I beat up a guy 3 years older than us." I laughed.

"Yeah. Thank you for that." She said genuinely.

"Don't sweat it. He was being an asshole." I said, and plopped down on her bed next to her.

"Aren't you worried that he is going to get you back?" She asked.

"Nah, I know where he lives, and all I'd have to do is tell his mama. She'd kick his fucking ass too."

Carly looked shocked at my language and I made a mental note to tone it down. Princess or not, she was definitely not from my world.

"So, what's your story?" She asked.

"Ah, Carly, we don't have enough time for my story. Long story short, I'm a tough chick who can take care of herself."

We were quiet for a minute. I decided to go for broke.

"You might hear some rumors about me. I try not to give the people at school reason to talk about me, but sometimes you can't help it." My lips got tight.

"I'd understand if you don't want to be friends with me. Most parents think I'm a bad influence on their kids. I don't have a whole lot of friends." _ANY friends is a more accurate statement._

"Why wouldn't I want to be friends with you? You didn't even know me and you stuck up for me? I think that makes you a really good person. I don't care what people say. Besides, they talk about me too, and not all of it is true. We can just ignore them together."

I smiled.

"I'd like that a lot Carly."

She gave me a hug and I stiffened. I'm not a huggy person.

"Hey, do you have anything to eat here?" and with that, I got off the bed in search of the kitchen.

I watched my back for a few weeks for retaliation, and I'm sure it would have come eventually, but Jason's father was killed in a drug deal gone wrong and his mother moved across the state, bring dear ole Jason with him.

That was my world.

I was jerked from my memories, by my mother slamming my bedroom door. She was pissed I didn't have more money in my pockets. She assumed that my job at Lou's was slow going with bad tippers. She didn't show much interest in me other than my monetary supplements. Thirteen bucks will buy her a bottle of cheap vodka. Enough to get her through the morning. Great. I heard her rustling around in the living room for shoes or keys or something else necessary to get to the liquor store. I sighed in relief when I heard the door click shut. I had 25 minutes before she was back. Enough time for a quick shower and if there is even food at the house, a quick breakfast.

I got up and pulled out clothes for the day. I was off today, so no uniform, and the selections of clothing I had to choose from was slim. Not that I cared much what I wore. Not a priority. My goal in life was to get enough money to get away from here. Period. I guess you could say I don't exactly think like a regular 17 year old girl. What do normal 17 year old girls think about anyway? Boys right?

I think about boys, problem is, boys don't really notice me, I like to think they're more afraid of me. It's not that I'm not pretty, I think I'm okay. I'm short, about 5 foot 2, with blue eyes and long blonde wavy hair. I've got what I consider and athletic build, some hips and boobs, but I'm not curvy. I have a body that's meant for my lifestyle, I can move fast when I need to, and I don't get noticed, which in most cases, in my life, is a good thing. Because even though boys don't notice me, that means that the men around here don't really notice me either. At least most of them. I'm invisible most of the time.

Plus, I'm around Carly all the time. Carly is a gorgeous girl. She looks like she did when we were eleven, with the long brown hair and huge brown eyes, but the puberty fairy blessed the shit out of her. She grew to be 5 foot 8 and she is stacked. She is all curves, and in the good way, not the "I'm chubby but I tell people I have curves" way. She's a size 4 like me, but where my pants just fit my hips, they hug hers. Where my tops fall over my body, they conform to hers. Sharing clothes with her is as exciting as it is depressing. She's a true sister in that way; she lets me borrow whatever I need, no matter how much better it looks on her, though she does hate it when I borrow her pants since they drag on the ground. So, when I say I'm invisible, I think it's more likely that boys don't notice me because Carly is in the room. I'm used to it and I don't begrudge her for it. She thinks I'm crazy. She claims she'd give anything to have MY figure. Grass is always greener, eh?

I remembered the first time I was jealous of her body. We were thirteen and starting 8th grade. She had "grown" over the summer and I was still flat as a pancake. But instead of being proud and cocky like I would have been, she was insecure and embarrassed. I couldn't understand it.

We headed into homeroom together and I saw the new kid. It was an event when our school got a new kid. In fact, Carly had been the last new kid, and that was almost 2 years ago. This new kid was good looking in a nerdy way. Thick brown hair, dark eyes, and a sweet smile. He was sitting at his desk, reading a book, which was adorable, again, in a nerdy way, being that it was the first day of school, and nothing was due. I wanted to talk to him. I'd never had this kind of reaction to a boy. I'd had some experience with boys, but not this type of boy. This wasn't the type of boy that would make out with me on the bus home. This wasn't the type of boy to sneak cigarettes with. But I still wanted to talk to him. But as soon as I started thinking of ways to do just that, he looked up and saw Carly. All hope was lost once I saw the look on his face. Love at first sight. Of course. Carly.

Carly looked uncomfortable and sat down at the first available chair.

"Why is the new kid staring at me like that?" She whispered at me.

"Because you're hot." I whispered back. "And your boobs are huge." I teased.

She turned beat red and didn't talk to me the rest of homeroom.

When the bell rang and we got up to leave, the boy came over to us, or more accurately, to Carly.

"Hi, I'm Freddie, I'm new here."

Carly didn't say anything, and she looked panicked, so I stepped in.

"Hi, Freddie. This is Carly, and I'm Sam. Nice to meet you, we gotta go." I said as I dragged Carly away from the confused, adorable boy.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You couldn't even say hi!" I said to her as soon as we were out of earshot.

"I don't know, I just, the way he was looking at me, it was weird."

I shook my head. Poor innocent Carly. She was stuck on this idea of how it's supposed to be when two people like each other. This whole, "the clouds with part and the sun will shine and the angels will sing." kind of idea.

The rest of the week passed by in a blur. Carly finally talked to Freddie, and it was obvious to everyone that he was crazy about her. Who wouldn't be, really? Gorgeous and sweet, the whole package.

Freddie started hanging out with Carly more and more and he finally got up the nerve to ask her out. I wasn't there when it happened, but the gist that I got from Carly is that she just told him that she only liked him as a friend, and that he was okay with that. I'm not stupid. I know that him being "okay with that" meant that he was going to stick around until she changed her mind.

That annoyed me. Carly was my best friend for the last two years and I didn't have to share her with anyone else. I liked it that way. I hated the idea of having to share my best friend with a boy who just wanted to feel her up.

After that, I started being sarcastic and a little mean to Freddie. At first he was surprised, not really knowing how to take it, and then he started acting just as nasty back. It soon became precedent for us.

I hadn't really thought about why Freddie and I fought since then. It's just how Freddie and I are now. We do well with the sarcastic, mean banter. I usually win. He's just too much of a sweet boy. It doesn't work to his advantage that I'm bitter to the very core.

Not that I don't consider us friends, I just… I don't know how to explain it. I know that I defend him constantly, though I would NEVER admit that to him. But I don't like it when people try to act like they know him and they don't. The only time he has ever witnessed me sticking up for him was when Tim was insulting him in the 10th grade, I did the only thing I could to get them to shut them up, and enjoyed it a little more than I should have. Man, I haven't thought about that in a while… that was fun.

I settled on a pair of jean cut off shorts and a tank top, and headed out of my room. I checked the fridge first and saw that there was nothing in there but a box of baking soda and old condiments. The cupboards produced gravy packets and peanut butter. I grabbed the jar of peanut butter and a spoon and ate 3 large spoonfuls. Breakfast of champions. I took my clothes to the bathroom to get ready and started the shower. I let the warm water drops flow all around me and let my mind drift to nothing.

I heard the front door open, long before my 25 minutes were up and I panicked. Even though I was in the warm shower, I broke out into a cold sweat. It wasn't my mom. And the only other person it could be… was Chuck.


	2. My life as a doormat

OFFICIAL SEAL OF EDIT. THANK YOU AUSSIEMMA.

A/N This one is in Freddie's POV. Yes, I realize that these characters are slightly out of character and that the details aren't quite the same…*shrug* I kind of like these guys better…

Chapter 2: Freddie POV

My life as a doormat

I awoke to the smell of pancakes and bacon. I lay in bed, running my hands though my hair, trying to ignore my full bladder, and hoping that my mother would fall asleep before I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Freddie! Wake up sweetheart! I made breakfast!"

I groaned. No such luck. She wanted to have breakfast together. Which only meant one thing; she wanted to talk to me about dad.

I was used to this by now, but it didn't make it any easier or any more enjoyable. My dad decided that he didn't want to be with my mother when I was 13. From what I remember, my father had always had women on the side, and my mother always looked the other way. I don't know which secretary dad had at the time, but she must have been a doozy to convince him that he needed to divorce my mom.

I mean, my mom is no picnic. But having a wife that looked the other way while he had affair after affair? You'd think that's the kind of wife he wanted to have. I never could understand his thought process when it came to women. Admittedly, I'm much more like my mother when it comes to relationships.

We're doormats. I have been in love with my best friend Carly since the first day I saw her in 8th grade. Though she's been clear since then that we aren't anything but friends, I still hold a torch for her. I'd do anything for her. I'm her doormat.

Just as my mother is my father's doormat. She still loves him, and while he has no desire to be with her exclusively, she still spends a lot of time with him. My father doesn't love anyone except himself. Even me, I can tell he regards me as a nuisance. Before I turned 18, I was just another responsibility that he didn't want to have. He spent his obligatory every other weekend with me, and by "with me" I mean, that he left me alone at 8pm every night to go off gallivanting with whatever idiot he was sleeping with.

Now that I'm 18, I haven't seen or heard from him directly in months. I like it that way, and apparently, so does he.

I looked at the clock and noticed that it was late, around 10am. I groaned again. That meant mom spent the night with dad again. She works the swing shift at the hospital as a nurse and usually gets off work around 6am. Sometimes she stays up to cook me breakfast, but that's usually at 7 at the latest. Anything later than that means that she didn't come home after work. Any time after that means that she's going to whine about dad. I just wasn't in the mood for that today.

I took my time getting out of queen size bed and into the bathroom attached to my room. I had to acknowledge dad's one redeeming quality. He wasn't stingy with his money. He made sure when mom moved out that we lived comfortably. Since my mom didn't fight the divorce, because she doesn't fight anything, he wasn't obligated to pay a whole lot. But he paid more than he needed to.

When my mom was looking at apartments, I didn't really have an opinion, they all sort of looked the same. When we came to look at this place, I figured it was just as good as any other nice place, but as we were leaving, I saw Carly heading out of her apartment directly across the hall and we exchanged a quick hello. After that I sang the praises of the apartment like it was the Taj Mahal. My mother was only too happy to give me something that made me that excited. I still couldn't care less about the apartment, but living right next door to my best friend/love of my life, is a HUGE bonus.

I wondered if my dad thought that money could fix everything. It sure as hell worked in most areas of his life. Anytime there was a problem with anything, he threw money at it. Even with me, especially at the beginning of the divorce.

I've always lived comfortably, so it wasn't a shock when he tried to alleviate his guilt with the newest gadget for me. At first I was stoked, I figured that I might as well benefit from all the passing me back and forth, but when he got me my 5th iPod, it kind of lost its luster. So one weekend when he left me alone, I left him a giant pile of iPod pieces on his kitchen table. I didn't get any more iPods after that.

I flipped the light on in the large bathroom and noticed that it had been scrubbed clean since last night. My toiletries were lined up in an obsessive compulsive way (tallest to shortest) along the double sink vanity. The toilet paper was folded over into the point like you see in hotels. Washcloths were folded over the side of the whirlpool tub.

"Damn it, ma!" I said to myself. I hated it when she came into my room. It's not that there was anything that I didn't want her to see, (Well, that's not true, but I doubt she'd try to get into the locked drawer beside my bed), but it was that at 18, she still treated me the way she did at 13, which was how she treated me when I was 5.

At 13, I was starting to come into my own. I was really interested in writing, and I had started drinking black coffee and reading Jack Kerouac. My mom was "normal" I guess then, dealing with her job and me in a normal capacity. Then dad decided to leave. She latched onto me, like I was going to leave her next. My every move was watched, my every behavior scrutinized. The coffee habit was taken away, "Freddie, caffeine stunts your growth." I was placed under strict curfew and bedtime routines. Even my personal hygiene habits were topic for conversation.

I didn't rebel against her. I felt too sorry for her. She had lost control of her life and needed control on something. She needed this from me.

Oh. And I'm a doormat.

I came out into the spacious kitchen and sat at the marble topped breakfast bar. My mother was standing at the flat top stove and was still cooking even though the stack of pancakes was about a foot tall and dangerously close to toppling over.

"Ma! I'm not gonna eat that many pancakes!" I said, grabbing a plate and loading three pancakes onto it.

"I know, but you're a growing boy. You eat as much as you can and I'll freeze the rest. You can pop them into the toaster if you want them later." I shook my head at the "growing boy" comment and took four slices of bacon from the plate of about thirty.

I ate in silence for a few minutes while my mother poured the last of the batter on the skillet.

"I saw your father this morning." She said, looking at the skillet and not at me. Which was a good thing because I was looking at her with a look of utter annoyance.

I took a bite of pancakes and said, "I figured as much."

She spun around. "Don't talk with your mouth full, Freddie. Have I taught you no manners?" She said as she pointed her spatula at me.

I huffed in annoyance and swallowed. "Sorry, ma."

She turned back toward the skillet. "Anyway, he wanted me to tell you that he would be home this weekend and you should come over."

I rolled my eyes. My dad said no such thing. More than likely my dad said that he didn't have to work this weekend. He did not mention me, nor did he mention that he would be "home", or at least not home alone.

"I'll think about it." I said shortly.

I learned a few years ago, that arguing with my mother about dad was useless. Arguing with my mother in general was useless. I wasn't going and she knew that, but trying to convince her as to why was pointless. Luckily, my willingness to be a doormat was only pertinent to the opposite sex. I had no desire to help alleviate dad's guilt over me.

"He misses us, Freddie." She said with a heavy sigh.

I rubbed my face. Crap, he was messing with her head again. That was always the worst. I could care less what happened with them behind closed doors. Because that's my mother, ew. But, I have come to accept that she was my dad's wife first and they will always have THAT kind of relationship.

But it really bothered me when my dad messed with her head. It meant bad news for me when I had to pick up the pieces later on. My dad loves the power trip he gets from it. He falls in and out of "love" with her every few months. She gets suckered in every time. I was now dreading the impending dumping scene that will inevitably follow this mess.

"Mom. I love you, you know that." I was about to start getting into the fact that he would no doubt fall into the same pattern that he has fallen into time after time, but it would do no good. She would fall into her pattern too. I sighed.

"Thanks for breakfast, ma." I got up and kissed her on the cheek and went to take a shower. I started thinking about my plans for the day. Plans that would likely include Carly, and Sam, by default.

Some people think it's weird that my only two close friends are girls. Some people think I'm sleeping with them both. Some people think I'm gay. I don't really give a shit what people think. Carly has been my best friend since I was 13. I have been in love with her for that long too. She's well aware of this fact, and has made it clear that she doesn't like me "that way". But early on, I decided I would rather have her in my life as my friend than not at all. But the second she gave me the signal that it would be okay to kiss her, I'd be doing just that.

Carly is the embodiment of a perfect girl. She's sweet, and kind. Selfless to a fault, she is a good listener and gives great advice, and sigh, she's beautiful. No, scratch that, she's fucking gorgeous. Like, out of my league gorgeous. I get all gooey when she looks at me; I want to hold her all the time. She is innocent and funny and… okay, I'm getting a little girlish here with the adjectives. She's everything I want in a girlfriend. But since that's not a possibility, I am happy to have her as my best friend.

Sam is another story. When I saw Carly on my first day of school here, Sam was the one who jumped into the conversation before Carly could say anything. Sam was the one who was interrupting me every time I wanted to spend time with Carly, and Sam was and is ever present in the Shay household, preventing me from ever getting to spend time alone with my best friend.

At first I thought maybe Sam was jealous of Carly, and all the attention I was giving her. But then, instead of flirting with me and being nice like a girl would if they wanted attention, she was downright nasty to me. It was then I figured out she was jealous of me, and didn't like sharing her best friend. She is rude, and sarcastic, and mean, to me; anyway. But she'd bend over backwards for Carly, and because of that reason, I try to remain civil with her. She makes Carly happy. I think that's the reason that Sam TRIES to remain civil with me as well. We both have Carly's best interests in our heart. Though we could very likely do without each other in our lives.

It's not that I don't like Sam as a person. She's tough and while she has a very rough exterior, (again, to me especially) she can be very sweet… to Carly and Spencer. But if I have to name her best quality, it's easy. It's her loyalty. She may pretend to hate my guts and tease and torture me mercilessly when we're together, but I've heard from numerous sources that she sticks up for me when I'm not around. I'd never mention this to her, she'd deny it and then likely go back to those sources and trash me for even bringing it up. But I'm grateful nonetheless.

The only time she stuck up for me in my presence was the day that Tim Parker called me a faggot in 10th grade. I didn't think anything of it. I was a quiet kid; I kept to myself, and hung out with Carly and Sam. They knew the real me, what did it matter what assholes like Tim Parker thought?

Sam did not agree. I still to this day can't figure out her motivation for the following occurrence.

Tim was harassing me, quite aggressively, while I was at my locker and I was dutifully ignoring him. He was shoving me against the locker while I was trying to take books out, saying things, like, "So, who you got a crush on this week faggot? Kiss any boys lately?" I was facing my locker, but I was about to turn around and crack out, "Yeah, your mom", but Sam one upped me.

She came up to me out of nowhere, slipped in between me and my locker, put her arms around my neck and pulled me into her, then kissed me hard on the mouth. It caught me so off guard that I had no idea how to react. She threaded her hands into my hair and tugged gently. I lowered my hands from my locker to around her waist. She slipped her tongue into my mouth and moaned. That single moan was the hottest thing I'd ever heard in my life. I lowered my hands to her hips and let my tongue caress hers. I started to groan and really get into this amazing motherfucking kiss, when she pulled away, kissed my nose and said,

"Thanks for last night, baby."

She walked off, swaying her hips, and I was left panting against my locker, hard as a rock.

Tim didn't call me a faggot anymore. Sam and I didn't talk about the kiss, and when Carly mentioned that there was a rumor that Sam and I kissed, Sam laughed it off and said that she'd rather kiss a dog's butt than kiss me. I didn't argue with her. I didn't say a word.

I was grateful. There were also some lingering feelings that I couldn't identify, but I just wrote them off as typical feelings after a first kiss.

Yes, my first kiss was a pity kiss. Scratch that. My ONLY kiss was a pity kiss.

I heard a couple of rumors that I didn't want to know after that. For some reason, most of the male population saw it necessary to tell me about Sam's sexual history, given that now I was included in supposed history. Sam is not innocent. Well, I take that back. Who knows how many of the rumors were actually true. I mean, I was now rumored to have slept with her and that's not true. But it did make me look at Sam differently. I don't know if I never saw her as a girl before that, or if I just didn't see her as the type of girl that needed or wanted a guy.

I was so used to Carly going on and on about the perfect guy (who, on paper, is me, by the way), but I don't think I've ever heard Sam even mention guys around me. Maybe she saved that conversation for when I wasn't around. Before this kiss and the information that followed, I'd always viewed Sam as asexual. It took a few months before I could act right around her. I kept envisioning her sexually.

Where I'd once pictured Carly's face and body in my mind during my "special shower time", Sam began to replace her, and the innocent fantasies with Carly, suddenly became somewhat graphic fantasies with Sam. It was unnerving. I was used to feeling this way about Carly. Sure, she didn't reciprocate, but she wouldn't break my arm for thinking romantic thoughts about her either.

I finally decided to quit thinking of either of them and focus on someone safe, and from then on, it was Jessica Alba who visited me in the shower. The feelings, or whatever it was, with Sam fell to the back of my mind and things fell back into a more normal pattern.

But I never really stopped seeing her as a girl. I mean, Carly is gorgeous. Perfect. Statuesque. A goddess. Carly has dark hair that you just want to run your hands through. Carly has perfect, girly curves that I can only imagine how they feel beneath my hands.

Sam is, well, Sam is Sam. It's not that she's not pretty. She really is. Stunning even. It's just hard for me to even think of her that way. The girly way. But yeah, if I had to give a physical description of Sam, I'd say she's pretty hot. And while I don't really see her in the girly romantic way, like the way I see Carly, I never stopped seeing Sam in a sexual way. I can only imagine the things (and sometimes I do) that she will do the poor sap of a guy who dates her.

However, it was Jessica Alba who was just finishing up with me in the shower today. I rinsed off and got dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a blue polo shirt.

I didn't have anything to do at all, except start going through my stuff to start packing up for college. I was really looking forward to a brand new start, even if I was staying in state. But I'd be living in my own place (paid for by daddy dearest, of course). I was still pursuing writing, and I'd had a couple of job offers already, but I'd been putting off writing my own stuff for a long time, and I figured in college, I'd get a chance to do just that. Carly wasn't going to the same college as me, but she was staying in state too, so we would still be able to see each other, but be able to branch out a bit. I'm a little worried that she's going to meet her prince charming there at the University of Washington, but I know that her standards are a bit lofty. Seriously, that's not just my pride; she really has completely unreasonable standards.

She's studying to be a photographer, which explains the constant clicks and flashes that are there even in my subconscious. We have documentation of every aspect of our lives from the second her brother got her that camera. As the years went on, her artistic talent got better and better. By our senior year, she had won numerous awards and had been nationally recognized as a photographer to watch. She has made me collage after collage, scrapbook after scrapbook, and I treasure each one. She's made them for Sam too, though I've never seen the ones she's made for her. I'm dying to; as I'm sure she's dying to see mine. Carly always makes sure to put the most embarrassing pictures of me in these scrapbooks, like I am desperate to keep the picture of me in the holiday sweater that my mom made me wear to Carly's house, or the one where I grew really fast one winter and all my pants were 3 inches too short and all I had were SpongeBob socks left. Anyway, Carly lives for photography, so Sam and I have just grown used the notion that there is always a camera around. We both got over our camera shyness after about a month. Carly's always in her dark room, or next to the computer, she does both digital and film, which I think is a dying art, and Carly thinks is classic and should never go away. I can't wait to see what she does with what college will teach her, I'm sure she's gonna go far.

Sam is funny about the future. Or the past. Come to think of it, I don't know much about Sam's life, other than what she talks about in front of me, and she keeps that pretty vague. I know that she works her ass off in the crappy diner downtown and makes sure that Carly and I eat for basically nothing, which is ironic, since we both have money to spare, but I have no idea what she spends her money on. I have no idea where she even lives. She's not going to college, as far as I know, and I think she lives with her mom, but like I said, she keeps the details of her home life pretty hush hush.

I have overhead a couple of things through the years. There was one time in particular, the summer before junior year when I learned a little more than I was supposed to.

I heard Sam and Carly talking in the kitchen when they thought I was upstairs. Sam was really upset, which is what caught my interest. Sam is never upset, or at least never shows it. Angry, sure. All the time. But upset? Never. I got as close to the kitchen as I could and I could hear Carly soothing her.

"It's okay, Sam, you can stay here as long as you need to." Carly said.

"I don't know what else to do, Car. She said if I go to the cops, she'll kill me. You saw what happened when they brought me home last time." Sam's voice shook.

"I know, Sam, I know."

With that, I headed back upstairs and told myself I'd give Sam a break on the sarcasm for a while, it sounded like she was having a rough time.

They came in the room a few minutes later, looking like nothing serious had just happened.

"Everything okay?" I asked, looking directly at Sam.

"Why wouldn't it be?" She challenged, narrowing her eyes.

"I don't know, I was just asking." I said defensively.

"Well, next time you want to get all touchy feely on me, let me know so I can leave." She replied harshly.

And that was the end of my nice streak to Sam.

I sat in my room for a while, while I heard my mom clean the kitchen and go to sleep. I checked my email and read one from Spencer, Carly's brother. It was an invitation to his band's gig this weekend. Sweet.

Spencer is awesome. He's the closest thing I have to a male role model in my life, and I try my best not to cling, but it's hard not to. When Carly brought me to her apartment the first time, he sat me down and did his best to have a "dad" type conversation with me about Carly and limits and keeping my "hands and other body parts the fuck off of her". I had to give the guy some props; he scared the shit out of me. Sam graciously offered to keep me in line, and Carly just rolled her eyes and told Spencer that "it wasn't like that."

Later on when the girls were upstairs and I was down, Spencer asked if it was "like that" for me. I nodded, and then scared that he was going to give me another speech about not touching her, I quickly replied, "But not the way you think, I mean, I like her, and I don't want to touch her, I mean, I do, but not, I mean…" Spencer laughed and shook his head.

"No worries, bro. I remember junior high. Hang in there, she'll notice you eventually."

"Here's hoping."

Spencer is still on my side. Still pimping me out to Carly whenever he gets the chance. I love that he's on my side. He's both the big brother I never had, and the father figure that I wish I did.

I saw another email from my dad, telling me to tell my mother that he had to go out of town for the next few days, so he wouldn't be home.

Bullshit. Fucking Bullshit. Not even man enough to tell her himself. Ugh.

I started playing video games and must have gotten into it. I heard a knock at the door, and pulled out my cell to check the time. 1pm already? I saw I had a text message and checked it on the way to the door.

_Call me when you get this! So excited! -Carly_

Hmm… wonder what's up. I was about to call her back when I opened the door. I dropped the phone and my jaw, and then an overwhelming urge to kill someone surged through my veins.


	3. Crunch

OFFICIAL SEAL OF EDIT. THANK YOU BETA!

A/N So this picks up where Chapter 1 left off in SamPOV. This chapter is very gritty and violent. It's rated M for a reason, so if this is not your thing…there's that little red x in the upper right corner….

Chapter 3

SPOV

Crunch

I yanked the towel off the rack before I even turned off the water and hardly dried myself off at all before I started yanking my clothes on.

I knew the lock to the bathroom was more for looks than for purpose, and if he wanted in here, he could get in here. It was too early to hope that he'd just pass out on the couch.

FUCK.

I was growing more and more panicked as the seconds passed. I could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer to the door and I had barely even had a chance to finish hooking my bra and pull up my panties.

He barged in like I feared he would and stood in the doorway watching me while I scrambled to throw on the shorts and tank top. He took a swig from his beer and leered at me. I hated feeling this vulnerable. I needed my power back.

"What the fuck do you want?" I spat at him.

"Hey, now, that's no way to speak to your father." He said, his breath reeking of booze, indicating that this beer was in no way his first.

Chuck. Fucking. Ridell. He was 5 years older than me. And a raging alcoholic. And my mother's flavor of the moment. Though, admittedly, they had been together longer than the obligatory 6 weeks that my mom usually lasts for. They'd been on and off now for about 2 years. The day she met him, he was at the bar celebrating his 21st birthday. I know this for a fact, because she left me alone that day. Not that was out of the norm for her, but I remember it clearly because I turned 16 that day. That's right. Chuck Fucking Ridell and I share a birthday. My mother STILL doesn't remember mine.

"Just because you're fucking my mom, doesn't make you my father." I retorted.

"That's true, I guess, 'specially since I still plan on fucking you…" He hedged forward, cornering me in the tiny bathroom.

Now, under any normal circumstance, I'd kick a guy in the balls for a threat like that. But, I've tangoed with this guy before. He knows my weakness.

"Don't try any funny shit, or I'll tell your mama." He had an evil glint in his eye when he said this. He knew they could and would double team me and beat the ever living shit out of me for whatever lie he would inevitably tell her.

He pushed me against the wall and grabbed my breast. He gripped too hard and pushed his face into my neck, sucking too hard. I tried to flip us so that I could try to disengage him, but he just pushed harder into me. The smell coming from him almost made me gag. While pinning my body against the wall, he unzipped his pants, and pulled his dick out. He started pulling my shorts down, and had his hand pushing into my panties and I started to panic. God, I wasn't going to be able to stop him. This is it. Rape or a Beating. Those were my choices. What kind of life is this? Why am I putting up with this?

Right then I just snapped. I was done. I pushed him hard away from my body with enough force that he slammed into the sink and dropped his beer, the bottle crashing to the floor and shattering into a hundred pieces. I kicked him square in the nuts and he dropped to his knees, likely pushing broken glass into his legs. I didn't care. He was on the floor long enough for me to run out the bathroom and grab my shoes. I had gotten a foot from the front door and was ready to run, when my mother opened the front door.

Fuck me. This was NOT going to end well.

"What in the hell is going on?" She screamed as she saw Chuck on the floor and me heading out the door.

I tried to get past her, but she pulled my wet hair and yanked me back.

"I asked you a god damn question, Sam. What the fuck is going on?"

"I… I…" I didn't have the words. I never had the words for my mother. No answer was ever the right one.

"I'll tell you what the fuck is going on…" Chuck grunted from the bathroom. He rose up and walked into the kitchen where we were standing. My mother was still holding on to my hair and Chuck walked past me to the fridge to get another beer.

"What happened is this little cunt tried to seduce me into the shower, and then when I went to see what she wanted, she kicked me in the balls." He looked at me with the same evil glint he'd had in his eyes, and a face that clearly read, "Payback's a bitch."

My mother slammed my face down on the counter, and my teeth broke into the skin of my lip. It left blood on the countertop.

"What the fuck, Sam? You can't just give it up to any guy; it's got to be MY man?" She was seething. I knew my mother in this mood. There was no arguing. It was best for me to just take my punishment and then I could get the fuck out of here.

She slammed my face down again and this time I think she might have broken my nose. The crunching sound was a pretty good indicator. The pain was so intense, my eyes teared up and I whimpered. Not good. She hated it when I made noise.

"Oh, I'll give you something to cry about, you little whore." She pushed me into the fridge and I lost my balance and fell to the floor, when she started kicking me. Once in the face and once in the ribs.

"Get up! I'm not done! Get the fuck up!"

I slowly got up on my hands and knees and she kicked me in the face again, near my eye. I collapsed on the floor again.

"I said, Get the FUCK UP!"

She pulled my hair lifting me by it and turned me to face Chuck, who was smiling at the outcome of the situation.

"I think he deserves to get a good kick in, don't you?" She asked me, knowing full well I didn't intend to answer her. She liked it that way too.

Chuck cocked his head to the side and smiled wider, "Well, if you insist, Darlin'..."

I shut my eyes and waited for the excruciating pain to come, and it did, like a searing hot poker to the same eye my mother had kicked, but it was gone in an instant, and then there was nothing. Blackness. Quiet. Peace.

I woke up on the kitchen floor, covered in blood, and aching from head to toe. I looked at the clock and realized I'd been unconscious for over four hours. I picked my head up and saw Chuck and my mother passed out on the couch. This was it. Now or never. I didn't want to take the risk of getting cleaned up, even in the kitchen sink and risk waking them. I needed to run, and run fast. I tip toed to the door and tried to open the door with as little noise as possible. This, of course, meant it creaked louder than ever before. I looked back and saw that they flinched but didn't wake up. I shut the door behind me, and felt the warm sun on my skin. I breathed in the foul stench of the trailer park and started running. I had a long run ahead of me.

After two miles, my face started aching so bad I thought I was going to puke. After four miles, I did. After six miles, my legs burned and my chest ached, but I could see the tall building in my sight. It was motivation for the final mile.

I stopped at the door of the apartment building and sat on the park bench for a while. It was tradition. I never liked letting Carly know I ran here. I think she assumed that on days when she didn't pick me up, that I took a cab, but she never questioned me. I liked to sit on the park bench and catch my breath, stretch out and collect myself.

I laughed at myself when I realized I was sitting on a park bench with a severely beaten face and I was worried that my best friend would be concerned about my running.

I took the stairs instead of the elevator, less likely to have to run into someone, and got up to Carly's floor. I slammed open the stairs door and proceeded to knock on Carly's door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Desolation crept into me. Where was Carly? Why wasn't she home? Where was Spencer? Where else was I going to go with a face this fucked up? It's not like I could hang out in the library without getting more than a few stares.

My subconscious recognized where I could go before my mind did. My body had turned and pivoted so that I was standing directly in front of his door.

The only other door on this floor. Freddie's door. I looked at my watch and saw that it was one o'clock. His mom would be asleep, that was a bonus… if he was even home. Maybe he was out with Carly? My stomach clenched a little in jealousy at the thought of the two of them out without me.

_Not right now. Deal with that later._

I really didn't want to knock. Knocking meant questions for me, questions that I really didn't want to answer. Questions that I didn't want Freddie to ask me. I didn't want "pity eyes" from Freddie. But, I knew that he was my only option right now, and, if I was being honest with myself, was not that bad of an option. Freddie wouldn't push if I didn't want him to. Freddie would be nice as long as I was nice. I could be on my best behavior.

I figured I'd stood there long enough, and I'm sure the security guards downstairs were staring at me on camera figuring out if they needed to come up here and tell me to beat it. So, I knocked and stood back, away from the peephole… I waited, holding my breath, until I heard footsteps coming closer to the door. He opened the door and was looking at his cell phone when his eyes took in my appearance. He gasped and dropped the cell phone, and covered his gaping mouth. He stood like that for what seemed to be an hour and I shifted my feet, my eyes looking around, not wanting to invite myself in.

He was still staring, and hadn't moved or spoken, not even to invite me in, so I was left standing on his doorstep, looking like a fucking moron. I was supposed to be on my best behavior and he was already getting on my fucking nerves.

"Geez, Benson, take a fucking picture!" I finally said, rougher than I intended, but he was making me so uneasy, staring at me like that.

All at once, his face shifted from shocked to pissed as hell. Seriously, I was taken aback. I tried to remember a time when I'd seen Freddie pissed. I couldn't. I'd seen him annoyed, irritated, exasperated, put out, wound up and frustrated… all by my doing of course; but I'd NEVER seen him pissed. I was afraid he was pissed at me for yelling at him for a second until he took my hand and pulled me inside, slamming the door behind us.

"Who the fuck did this to you?" He let go of my hand and held my face in his hands, inspecting the damage. The action was tender and affectionate, and felt completely foreign to me. I knew that Freddie was a generally affectionate guy, but I had made it clear from the get go that I was NOT a touchy feely kinda girl, so he kept his distance from me. I tried not to read into the fact that he was running his thumbs over my face in a gesture that seemed romantic and sweet instead of generically comforting.

No, I didn't read or analyze anything. I just fucking basked in it. It dawned on me how long it'd been since I'd been touched in a nonsexual way by a male. I wondered if I ever HAD been touched in a nonsexual way by a male…

I was shaken from my reverie by Freddie asking more questions.

"Sam… what… God, are you okay?" I shrugged and nodded, wincing at how much I still hurt. The running did not help.

He lowered his hands from my face and pulled me in to a gentle hug. I could tell he was trying not to hurt me, and I deeply appreciated that. And that simple hug broke me. All the affection and caring that I had needed just destroyed me.

All of a sudden, the sobs tore out of me with wild abandon. It would have happened with Carly. It HAD happened with Carly before. I was EXPECTING it to happen again with Carly. But having it happen with Freddie just humiliated me, and I cried harder into his shirt. He pulled me tighter into his arms and I threw mine around his neck. He started swaying me back and forth and just held me while I cried myself out, letting out all the humiliation, physical pain, and the emotional exhaustion on Freddie's shoulder. And it felt sort of… good.


	4. Isn't there a tough girl manual?

OFFICIAL SEAL OF EDIT. THANKS A MILLION BETA.

A/N Thanks again for reviewing and sticking with my little story. I have no idea how long it'll be. Sorry. I'll write till there's no more to write I guess…which isn't anytime really soon…

Chapter 4: FPOV

Isn't there a manual on what to do when tough girls cry?

The toughest, strongest girl, no, scratch that, the toughest, strongest PERSON I'd ever known, was completely and totally coming apart in my arms. It was such an out of body experience that I honestly had no idea how to react. Had it been Carly who was upset, I'd know what to do. I'd just hold her tighter and stroke her hair to soothe her. I'd reassure her that it'd be okay. There wouldn't be any awkwardness because she'd be there for me if I was that upset. But it wasn't Carly. It was Sam. Sam DIDN'T cry. And even if she did, she WOULDN'T cry in front of me. Ever. It gave me so much ammunition. I'd never use it, but she would never have given me the opportunity to find out. Which is why it was such an out of body experience for her to be this vulnerable in front of me. I'd think she was pulling a prank on me if her face wasn't so messed up. She was still sobbing and clutching her arms around my neck. It suddenly dawned on me that Carly wasn't home, and that's why she was here. It made a little more sense. It probably killed her to be here. It was probably eating her up inside that she needed a friend, and she had to rely on me to fill that role. I suddenly felt horribly for not being a better friend to her, even though she was terrible to me, too. I figured it was her way of not getting hurt, but look at her now; she was literally hurt, and because of her fear of emotional pain, she didn't have anyone to turn to.

I wanted to kill whoever was responsible for hurting her. I don't consider myself a violent person, that's all Sam, but I've never wanted to hurt someone as badly as I did just then.

I knew she'd torture me relentlessly for it later, but I couldn't help but give her what she needed. A shoulder to cry on, literally. So I treated her just like I would have had it been Carly. I held her tighter and rocked her slowly, running my hands over her hair. She cried harder at first, which alarmed me a little, I pulled back, thinking I was holding her too tight and was hurting her, but she gripped me tighter, like she was afraid I was going to let go. It broke my heart. What the fuck had she been though today? This week? Her whole life?

I walked us back to the couch and I sat down and pulled her into my side. She snuggled onto my chest and continued to cry. I pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her. I just held her and listened to her cry, my mind wondering if I should be calling the police, wondering if she needed to go to the hospital, and also wondering where Carly was. She would definitely know what to do, or at least have an idea of what was going on. I wondered if Sam would have told her anything, or if she would just cry like this. After what seemed like hours, Sam started calming down, and before I knew it, she was asleep on me. I sat for a few more minutes in silence, and tried to shake off the very unsettling feelings of how right it felt for Sam to be tucked into my side on the couch with a blanket over us. More unsettling was the overwhelming urge to lean over and kiss her forehead.

I started validating. _That's a friend thing, right? _I would do that for Carly. But I had romantic feelings for Carly. It was probably just unsettling because I never touched Sam, ever. She was not a touchy feely person. She didn't hug, even Carly. So, yeah, it was probably just the physicality of the situation that made it unsettling.

I looked over at the framed picture of the three of us on the wall. Of course, Carly's unbelievable talent was able to capture the essence of all three of us in the shot. It was my favorite picture, hence the reason it was framed. Carly was situated between Sam and me, one arm around each of us. I was looking adoringly at her, of course, and she was smiling beautifully at the camera. Sam's expression was priceless. A mixed look of annoyance and contentedness. But even then, she shied away from the physical contact, Carly's arm much tighter around me than Sam.

What the fuck happened in this girl's life that she doesn't like to be touched, even by her best friends? Obviously, something snapped today, and she was starved for it. I flexed my arm around her tighter at the thought and looked at her again.

She looked beyond exhausted, even in sleep. I would catch even more hell for this later as well, but as I looked at her again, the overwhelming urges to kiss her forehead returned. I couldn't stop myself before I did it, and I could swear I saw her lips twitch into a smile. I held my breath for the inevitable ass kicking that was likely to occur, but she didn't wake up. I let out a sigh of relief and as gently as possible, picked her up and carried her to my bedroom. I set her down on the bed and took off her shoes. I really wanted to get her out of the bloody clothes, but I did value my life, so I let her be. I pulled the covers over her and went over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a t shirt and set them on the night stand. I wrote a quick note letting her know that she could shower and clean up if she wanted.

I slipped out of my room and shut the door behind me. I stalked out my front door, and banged on Carly's door, not expecting an answer but checking just in case. After a minute or so, my theory proved correctly that Sam came to me because Carly wasn't here. Where would she be?

Wait, didn't she send me a text today? I quickly pulled my cell and called her number and she picked up on the second ring.

"FREDDIE! You'll never guess what happened! Spencer's band got signed! He had to rush off to LA to record!" She rushed through the words excitedly.

"Wow, Car, that's great." I said, not as enthusiastically as I would have liked. My mind was a little maxed out.

"Um… yeah… well… we're gonna be here for a few weeks, so I left the key under the mat in case you need anything in the apartment, I know you left your laptop in there last night, and we left so early this morning, I didn't want to wake you up…"

"Oh, okay. Thanks… Um… Car..." I started, having no idea where to start.

"What's up Freddie? Everything okay? Are you all right? You sound weird."

"No. Well, yeah, I'm fine, but Sam is here, and she's…" I was hesitant telling this to Carly, feeling like this was Sam's story to tell, and since I really don't know what the story was, this was likely only going to make Carly anxious.

"What happened? Is she okay? Do I need to come back?" She instantly turned into momma bear, and I smiled at the identical reaction that I had when it came to Sam.

"I don't know what happened, she showed up here a while ago and she looks…bad. Someone really hurt her. " My fists clenched again at the idea of someone hurting my friend.

"She came to your house?" She asked surprised.

I laughed because at least it wasn't just me being paranoid; this was totally not Sam-like behavior. "Yeah, though in all fairness to Sam, I think she was looking for you. I let her in and asked what happened, and she just… she just cried and cried. She fell asleep. That's what she's doing now. "

"Jesus, and I wasn't there. Listen, Freddie. Don't bring her to the hospital, don't call the cops. You didn't right?" She was being harsh with me, something that rarely happened and it shocked me. Carly wasn't the type to break the law by any means, and her reluctance to cops in this situation really shocked me.

"Umm, no, I didn't, but she might need to be seen…" It bugged me that Carly didn't seem to want Sam to get medical attention.

"Freddie, listen to me, if she goes to the hospital, they'll call her mother. If you call the cops, they'll call her mother. She may even be heading to my apartment to look for Sam, don't let her find Sam." Carly's voice sounded panicked.

"Wait. Her MOM did this?" I asked, my mind almost incapable of understanding that a parent could do that to their own kid.

Carly sighed into the phone. Her tone softened. "She doesn't like to talk about it, obviously, but my guess is that when she wakes up, she knows you'll want some kind of explanation. Don't push. Let her tell you as much as she wants. I'm actually really proud of her for letting you in, even if it wasn't her first choice." Carly was talking about Sam like she was a scared little kid instead of the toughest person we knew. My guess is that I didn't know Sam even close to as well as I thought I did.

"Okay." I said after a brief silence.

"Get your mom to take a look at her if you can, make sure she's okay without getting the hospital involved. I don't know if I would risk letting her stay at my place because the cops will try to get in to find her." She sighed. "I know she's not your favorite person, but she really needs you Freddie. You need to either hide her from your mother, or get your mom to understand."

She was giving me these instructions like I was to take care of a ticking bomb. I felt like I needed to be writing these directions down.

"Me being out of town is probably the best thing that could have happened to Sam, this way her mom will think she's in LA with me." She took a calming breath. "Okay, I know you can take care of her Freddie. Just have her call me the second she wakes up, okay?"

"Wait. Wait. Wait. You want me to convince Sam that she needs to stay with me? You say this like it will be an easy thing! She hates me!" I exclaimed.

"Freddie, her options are limited, and you may not be her favorite person, but she trusts you. And whether you like it or not, you care about her too."

I ran my fingers through my hair, knowing that I had no argument for that, she was right on all accounts. I did care about her. I was livid that her mother fucked her up, both emotionally and physically, and I knew that Sam trusted me.

"All right, Car, thanks. I will have her call you as soon as she gets up." I exhaled.

"Okay, Freddie. Thanks. You're a good friend. To both me AND Sam." I smiled at her compliment.

"Yeah yeah, don't take too long in LA, I'm sure I'm going to need some sort of mental treatment by the time you get back." I joked.

"Yeah, yeah, by the time I get back, you will need a Sam intervention. Addicted to Sam." She giggled.

"Yeah, Car, that's it." I rolled my eyes at the idea. "And tell Spencer, "Congratulations", that's amazing!" I was more enthusiastic this time around, having all the drama out in the open.

"I will, thanks!" She paused. "Take care of her, Freddie; we're all she's got."

I nodded, and then snorted at myself for nodding to someone on the phone.

"Yeah, I will. Later, Car."

"Later."

I snapped the phone closed and grabbed the key under the mat in front of Carly's place and let myself in. I walked up into Carly's room and grabbed the laptop. I briefly considered grabbing some of Carly's clothes for Sam, but was just way too weirded out at A) going through Carly's stuff without her here, and B) Picking out something for Sam, that I just booked it back across the hallway.

I went back into my own quiet apartment and sat down on the couch and flipped open the laptop. I had been working on a story about unrequited love (a common theme in my writing) and quickly shut that document and opened a fresh one. I started writing my story. Our story. Carly's. My dad's. My mom's. Sam's. My fingers were flying over the keys as I started emptying my brain of my childhood memories, my feelings on love, politics, hate, religion and family. I was startled when I heard my mom's door open and I realized I'd been working for hours.

"Mom, hey!" I said, hitting the save and shutting the laptop.

"Mornin', Freddie. Well, mornin' to me anyway." She acknowledged with a smile before heading into the kitchen to start the coffee maker. I didn't have a whole lot of time, and I wanted to try and explain the situation before Sam woke up. I prayed Sam's sense of preservation knew not to come out until I had a chance to talk to my mother first.

Sam was not my mother's favorite person. I mean, it's not hard to guess why. My mother detests rudeness, and Sam sort of exudes it. She hates the way Sam treats me, and tells me over and over again that "friends don't treat each other that way". She's never really understood the give and take that is Sam and I, and she definitely doesn't understand that Sam is from a different world that we were from.

"Mom, I need to talk to you. I need to have an open mind. And I need you to trust me." I said, sitting on the bar stool next to her, pulling the newspaper away from her.

"Ooookaay." She said suspiciously.

I rubbed my face and tried to figure out where to start. Sam's health. Most important.

"Okay, you know Sam." I started.

She made a disapproving face and nodded.

"Well, she came over today, and she… well she's hurt." I stated, trying to keep the details as vague as possible.

"Oh my! Is she okay?" My mother may be a bit of a snob and have high expectations for me, but she is a nurse and a mother, and the idea of someone being hurt would never be okay, no matter how much she disliked them. Though I doubted that she'd extend that courtesy to Sam's mom.

"Well, that's the thing, ma. I don't know, and she can't go to the hospital." I said, looking her in the eye, trying to convey things that I really didn't want to say.

"Why! What happened? Did she break the law? Where is she now?" As soon as she finished her last question, we both heard the shower in my room start up.

I dropped my head in defeat.

"FREDDIE BENSON! She's HERE? She's in YOUR bedroom? You know the rules! No girls in your room!" She scolded, looking absolutely panicked.

"Mom, calm down. I wasn't in there with her. I stayed in the living room the whole time. She was asleep. Sam knocked on the door and she was all beat up. She cried and cried. I need you to take a look at her. I don't know what happened exactly, but I know she didn't break the law, and I don't think she'd be here if Carly were home. I think she'd rather be over with her." I rushed the words out, knowing I didn't have much time before Sam came out.

My mom frowned and considered this.

"Where's Carly?" She asked.

I laughed without humor. "Out of all the information I just gave you, you want to know where Carly is?"

My mother smiled. "It seemed like the most important piece of information to you."

My mother knew about the torch I carried for Carly, but it sort of irritated me that she chose a moment like this to bring it up. It was completely irrelevant, and it annoyed me that my mother couldn't see that.

The shower turned off, and I knew there wasn't much time before Sam tried to split.

"She's in LA, something to do with Spencer; I'll tell you about it later. Listen, I need you to make sure she's ok. Can you do that without pissing her off?" I asked, in all seriousness. If I merely annoyed Sam, my mother infuriated Sam.

She sighed and nodded, getting up and headed into my bedroom. I heard her knock on the bathroom door.

"Sam, it's Freddie's mother. Can I come in?" She asked softly.

I didn't hear an answer, but I heard the click of a door opening, and I sighed in relief that she was allowing my mom to at least talk to her.

I didn't hear anything but muffled voices for the next 20 minutes, and I assumed my mom was dressing all the wounds that I'd seen, and probably more that I hadn't seen.

While I was still in the kitchen, I heard a loud knocking. It was loud enough that I thought someone was knocking on my own door, but when I went to check the peephole, it was someone knocking loudly on Carly's door.

There were two people, a guy a few years older than me and swaying like he'd had way too much to drink. He was leaning against the wall, and the other person, a woman, was banging on the door.

"SAMANTHA PUCKET, GET THE FUCK OUT HERE THIS MINUTE!" The adrenaline coursed through my veins as I realized I was looking at Sam's mother.

"I'M NOT PUTTING UP WITH THIS BULLSHIT, YOUNG LADY; YOU NEED TO GET YOUR ASS HOME. DON'T MAKE ME CALL THE FUCKING COPS." She continued to yell through the door. It took everything in me not to fling the door open and crack her head open with a bat.

My mother surprised me, by pushing me out of the way and opening the door.

"Excuse me? Can I help you?" My mother asked Sam's mom rudely.

"Yeah, you can tell me if you've seen a little blonde girl, that's always with Carly, the girl that lives here?" Sam's mom asked sweetly.

I continued to watch through the peephole.

"Carly's not here, she went out of town." My mother answered coldly.

"BULLSHIT. She's hiding my daughter." Sam's mother tone immediately dropped from sweet to angry.

"I'm sorry; I'm not lying, Ms…"

"Puckett. Jolene Puckett. This is my fiancé Chuck." Her tone back to sweet.

"Well, Ms. Puckett, I'm not lying, she left this morning." My mother replied as cold as before.

Jolene got angry again. "Why should I believe you? You're lying, she's hiding in there!" She made her face into a pathetic excuse for sorrow and whined unbelievably, "I just want my little girl home!"

With that, I opened the door, and pulled out Carly's key. I went to open the door, and Jolene's mouth dropped open. Before she could say a word and make me want to hit a woman, I spoke up,

"She left me a key so that we could get into the house if we needed to. Look around for yourself. Carly's not here." I stated through clenched teeth.

"Who are you?" Jolene asked rudely. "Are you friends with Carly? Or Sam?"

It didn't look like they were going to go into the apartment. I had to decide whether or not to lie. If I told them I was just neighbors with Carly, and they went into the apartment, my lie would be blown. Damn Carly and her photography fetish!

"I'm just neighbors with Carly, and I know Sam from school, but we don't run in the same crowd." I lied casually.

Jolene nodded, seemingly understanding that there's no way I'd ever hang out with her daughter. I wondered what she thought of her daughter. Who she thought Sam was, who she expected Sam to hang out with, what she expected from her, and if anything at all.

Jolene shook her head, and looked up at my mother and I. "I'm so sorry, I am just concerned about where my daughter is. I'm sure you'd be the same way about your boy." She gestured to me and my mother tightened her lips and forced them into a fake smile.

"Yes, well, if I see Sam, I'll be sure to call the police, so she can be returned home. I'd hate to think anything bad would happen to her!" She said with sharp sarcasm.

Jolene narrowed her eyes at my mom and said, "Please do. Thank you. C'mon Chuck."

Chuck pushed off the wall and stumbled behind Jolene, and we both watched them get into the elevator and watched them as the doors closed in front of them.

I looked at my mother and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I had no idea…" She said, so quietly that I almost didn't hear it. I saw a single tear roll down her cheek and she turned to go back into the apartment.

I followed her in and shut the door behind me.

"Sam is resting in bed; you can sleep on the couch." She gave me a pointed glance as if to say, "You BETTER sleep on the couch."

"All this commotion is making me run a little late." She said as she scrambled around, grabbing her things and tidying up.

"Make sure she takes her medication before she goes to sleep, and make sure she eats. Do whatever you need to keep her here. I got the impression that she's ready to bail the second she gets a chance."

She had grabbed everything she needed and was heading for the door.

She lowered her voice to a whisper so that there was no chance Sam could hear. "I'm sorry I was so rude to her, Freddie. I didn't know." She said guiltily.

I whispered back, "I didn't either, ma."

She kissed me on the forehead, and held my face. "I love you."

"I love you too, ma." She walked out of the apartment and I locked the deadbolt.

A/N Review if you love it. Review if you don't. I just like getting emails that tells me there's a review... :P


	5. Fight or Flight

A/N

OFFICIAL SEAL OF EDIT. THANKS A MILLION BETA.

More from me…Eventually these updates will slow down. I have the first 10 chapter written up already, I'm just trying go through them…I'm sure there are still grammar mistakes, but I'm doing the best I can…

Thanks for reviewing, you guys are the best!

Oh yeah, BTW, I don't own iCarly. Duh.

Chapter 5 SPOV

Fight or Flight

I awoke to a very off feeling. I couldn't put my finger on it. I felt pain from my head to my toes, but that I could identify. I remembered that. I woke up to pain more often than not. Why did this feel weird? It dawned on me that other than the aching feeling deep in my muscles and bones and skin, I was COMFORTABLE. I sat up and looked around. The clock read eight pm, the light was just starting to fading outside. The room was immaculate and bare. It reminded me of a hotel room. There was the generic painting of an ocean on the wall, the beige comforter over the bed, the couch on one side of the wall, the tiffany style lamp in the corner. The only thing missing was a mini fridge. The only thing that didn't fit into this generic Hilton room was the gorgeous mahogany desk. If it had been pristine and empty like the rest of the room, it would have fit nicely, but it was cluttered with papers and books and pictures. Directly behind the computer was a wall with built in shelves, floor to ceiling, stacked with books. I got up and walked over to the bookshelf, and smiled when I realized where I was. Freddie's room. The books were poetry. I could see the ones he read often because the bindings were worn. I'd seen him carry around several of them, and I began pulling them out and flipping through them. I flipped to a page that had been dog eared.

**The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost**

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,  
And sorry I could not travel both  
And be one traveler, long I stood  
And looked down one as far as I could  
To where it bent in the undergrowth;  
Then took the other, as just as fair,  
And having perhaps the better claim,  
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;  
Though as for that the passing there  
Had worn them really about the same,  
And both that morning equally lay  
In leaves no step had trodden black.  
Oh, I kept the first for another day!  
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,  
I doubted if I should ever come back.  
I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference.

Huh. I didn't know if I really understood it, I'm not a big poetry fan, but this one kinda irked me. My life didn't have any paths. I felt destined to be in this life and no other, but I felt like my life had been one big "less traveled" path, and if I were ever faced with a choice between paved glory or more jungle to trek through, damn right, I'd be choosing the paved one.

I slammed the book shut and walked back over to the bed to throw the covers back on, like it looked like I made it, and noticed a note for me on the nightstand.

_Sam_

_You fell asleep on the couch, so I just brought you back here so you could get some rest. You look like you needed it. I pulled out some clothes if you wanted to get cleaned up. There's a bathroom attached to my room. I should be in the house or at Carly's when you wake up._

_Freddie_

He signed the note. Wow. Like I wouldn't know who it was from. Sometimes that guy is just retarded.

_Wait. Stop it._

I mentally chastised myself for insulting Freddie. He really went above and beyond today. Had the situation been reversed, would I have done the same for him? Yes, absolutely, but I would have tortured him relentlessly for needing my help.

I stiffened at the thought. Would Freddie do that? Would he throw this in my face later? I shook my head immediately, and then felt guilty because no matter how I tried to validate it, I definitely would have tortured him.

I grabbed the clothes and walked over to two doors in the room. Since I had no idea how I got in here, I had no idea which was the room to the living room and which was the door to the bathroom. I pressed my ear to the first door and vaguely heard Freddie and his mom talking, and then I pressed my ear to the second door and didn't hear anything. Satisfied at my amazing scientific deduction skills, I opened the door and flipped the switch.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

If this room was a hotel, I was in the freaking Beverly Hills Hotel. The double marble sink gleamed and the giant whirlpool tub begged me to get in. There was a single shower in the corner. The cool tile felt amazingly smooth on my feet and it dawned on me that I wasn't wearing shoes anymore. I definitely didn't remember taking them off, so it must have been Freddie. I was touched by the gesture and annoyed that I was touched.

I took a breath and did what I'd been dreading to do since this morning. I looked at the mirror. The blood had dried onto my face around my nose and my left eye was almost completely swollen shut. My top lip was huge and my bottom lip was cracked. My nose didn't look too bad and I was relieved. That meant it probably wasn't broken and I wouldn't have to see a doctor. My hair was matted to my face and stuck there with more blood.

I pulled my tank top gingerly over my head and threw the blood stained garment on the floor. There were faint bruises all over my chest, but I knew they would darken overnight. They'd be horrendous tomorrow. I touched my ribs and couldn't feel anything broken, just badly bruised.

I eased the denim shorts, also bloodstained, off my hips and examined my legs. Just as bad as my chest, but I was so relieved to find nothing broken. Nothing that required immediate medical attention. I was pissed that they fucked up my face so bad. I wouldn't be able to go anywhere or do anything for at least two days without people asking me what happened. I breathed another sigh of relief that I had tomorrow off work as well.

I took off the rest of my clothes and opened the door to the shower. Jesus Christ! You could fit five people in here! There were two different shower heads! I turned on one and got it the perfect temperature. I stepped under the stream and allowed the hot water to relax my muscles and calm my nerves. I grabbed to soap and lathered up and all of a sudden I blushed hot red as I realized this was Freddie's shower. Freddie was naked in here. I quickly shook the thoughts from my head.

_Not cool, Sam, not cool. You're not supposed to think of him like that._

I washed my hair with his shampoo and rinsed off. I wanted to stay in that shower all night, but I figured I needed to get over to Carly's before I outstayed my welcome here. It dawned on me that Mrs. Benson likely knew I was here now and was probably freaking the fuck out at the prospect of a girl, no, not just any girl, but ME, was in her son's bathroom, naked, in his shower. I chuckled at the likely tone of her voice as she said it.

I was NOT her favorite person. I'd never been past the living room of this house, never alone, always with Carly, and always because we were simply waiting for Freddie to leave. Mrs. Benson is overprotective and clingy and snobby and… the exact opposite of me. She hates the way I treat her "Freddie Darling" son, and can't stand the way I am in general.

I turned off the water and toweled off. I debated putting on my dirty undergarments and decided to go commando. Carly would let me borrow anything I needed. Right after I pulled on Freddie's sweats and t-shirt and was toweling off, I heard a knock on the door.

"Sam, it's Freddie's mom, can I come in?"

She sounded… nice. I wondered why she hadn't tried to bang down the door. Well, I owed it to "Freddie darling" to clear his good name.

I opened the door and she looked me up and down and noticed me in Freddie's clothes. The look on her face was priceless. Pure horror. I would have laughed if she didn't touch my cheek and made me wince in pain.

She sighed. "Let me take a look." She said, tenderly but firmly.

"Umm... okay." I mumbled and stepped aside. This was working out nicely. I didn't have to go to the hospital and I could still get looked at by a nurse. Sweet.

"Are you going to tell me how this happened, or am I to assume it was some sort of fight that I don't need to know about?" She asked harshly.

I tightened my mouth and nodded. She didn't need to know. It would just cause me more problems. I just had to shut my mouth for a few more weeks and then it wouldn't matter.

She sat me down on the toilet and began dabbing me with ointments and pressing her fingers into different parts of my body, checking for whatever it is that nurses check for.

"Well, it doesn't seem like you broke anything, that's good."

I nodded.

"I'm going to give you a pretty strong pain killer, but don't take it until before you go to sleep. If you take it now, you'll end up waking up in the middle of the night."

I nodded again.

"What happened to your clothes?" She asked suspiciously.

I picked them up and showed her the excess of blood that stained them.

"Oh. Oh my." She said, taken aback. I was glad she didn't see me pre-shower.

"It's no big deal; Carly will let me borrow something." I shrugged.

She frowned, "You didn't know? Carly's away with Spencer. Freddie just told me, I figured you already knew."  
"No, that's definitely news to me." I frowned as well, now really stressing out about where I was going to go tonight.

"Guess you'll have to go home, wherever that is for you." She said, very demeaning.

I got tight lipped again, but this time she pushed.

"Where DO you live Sam, maybe I can give you a ride on my way to work?" She asked softly. Nicely. It was weirding me out.

"Umm… well…" But before I could come up with a place she could drop me off and I could claim as "home", we both heard a loud knocking. I froze. Freddie's mom noticed the change in demeanor.

"Is someone looking for you? The person you fought? They knew to come here?" She was livid. I could understand, if what she thought was the truth, I'd have been pissed if someone was bringing their fight with them too.

But again, before I could say a word, I heard my mother's voice.

"SAMANTHA PUCKET, GET THE FUCK OUT HERE THIS MINUTE!"

I froze, my eyes widened and breath shortened.

Mrs. Benson narrowed her eyes at me. "Is that your mother?"

"I'M NOT PUTTING UP WITH THIS BULLSHIT, YOUNG LADY; YOU NEED TO GET YOUR ASS HOME. DON'T MAKE ME CALL THE FUCKING COPS!"

I started shaking, knowing that Mrs. Benson would let her know where I was and I was dead.

"You're mother did this." She whispered, not a question, but a statement.

I tightened my lips and looked at the floor. I wasn't going to win this one. The cops were coming, or I was going home with mom. No win.

In a flash, she was up and out the door. I was panicking, looking for my shoes and throwing on my bra, in preparation to run. I started heading toward the fire escape out Freddie's window, when something told me to wait. I don't know what it was, but I just got an overwhelming feeling that I needed to wait. I crept back toward the door and peeked my head out. The front door was slightly ajar, not so much that I could see out, but more importantly, not so much that someone could see in. I could hear though… the first thing I could hear was Freddie.

"I'm just neighbors with Carly, and I know Sam from school, but we don't run in the same crowd."

Wow, Freddie was a good liar when he needed to be. Good to know.

I heard my mother's sickeningly sweet voice, "I'm so sorry, I am just concerned about where my daughter is. I'm sure you'd be the same way about your boy."

I snorted. Yeah, THAT'S it.

"Yes, well, if I see Sam, I'll be sure to call the police, so she can be returned home. I'd hate to think anything bad would happen to her!" Mrs. Benson replied venomously, and for a minute, I was more afraid for my mother than I was for me. There was nothing in her voice but fierce protective concern and I can't even describe the relief and happiness that I had that someone had felt that for me.

"Please do. Thank you. C'mon Chuck." My mother replied icily. I backed into the bedroom and shut the door. I sat on the bed and took in what just happened out there. What did that mean?

Was Ms. Benson going to call the police now? Did I need to leave? She probably knew I had nowhere else to go now that Carly was gone. Where was Carly?

I heard Ms. Benson talking lowly to Freddie, but couldn't make out what they were saying. My head was killing me and I was STARVING. I hadn't eaten anything other than the three spoonfuls of peanut butter this morning, but I didn't want to leave this room. I was safe in this room. No cops, no mom, no Freddie asking me inevitable questions, no Ms. Benson's dirty looks, that were likely going to turn to pity looks. Nope. I was never leaving.

Then I heard a knock at the door of the room I was never leaving.

"Sam, it's me." Freddie said hesitantly. "Can I come in?"

I smiled. It had to be weird asking to come in your own room.

"Yeah."

He came in and looked at me with a strange expression, but he changed it too quickly, and I was left wondering if I had imagined it.

"Soooo…" He started, rocking on his heels, clearly uncomfortable.

I smirked. I was enjoying his discomfort. Probably too much.

"Yes, Freddie Darling?" I asked, my eyebrows raised, like "what the hell do you want?" He hated it when I used his mother's affectionate term toward him. But he ignored me, still uncomfortable. It was taking all I had not to burst out laughing at how awkward he looked.

"Sam, I just… I had no idea…" He started, and I cut him off. I was not ready to have this conversation.

"Got any meatballs?" I almost shouted, in an effort to change the topic.

He smiled a soft, crooked smile.

"No, but I bet we have all the stuff to make 'em. And if not, there's always take out."

He held out his hand to help me off the bed, and I stared at it for a minute. This was definitely new territory for us. I raised my eyebrows at him and he in return, raised his at me. Oh, it was a challenge. Okay, buddy. Sam don't back down from a challenge. So, I accepted it, ignoring how warm and nice it felt just to have him hold my hand.

And with that simple gesture, that boy led me out of the room that I swore I'd stay in forever. And I didn't even really care if we did have meatballs.


	6. Why is this so weird?

Chapter 6: God, this is weird

OFFICIAL SEAL OF EDIT. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU EMMA!

FPOV

I was happy that I didn't have to convince her to stay and eat. I don't know why I would think that was even something to consider, but my mom was right, I got the feeling that she was ready to bolt.

Sam insisted that she made dinner without any help from me. She definitely knew her way around the kitchen and before I knew it, she had made meatballs and spaghetti. It was totally delicious, and I made a point in telling her so, to which she replied, "If my food's so good, then eat it and shut your hole."

Ahh. Sam was back.

But something had changed. I don't know what it was. I didn't know if it was just because of all the shit that went down today and I saw her in a different, or realistic light, or if it was my reaction to seeing her in my clothes. When I walked into my bedroom and saw her there on my bed, with her legs crossed, leaned back on her arms, I nearly died. For that split second before I realized that this was SAM, I just saw a HOT girl, wearing MY clothes, on MY bed. I think I managed to holster the reaction before Sam noticed. There wasn't anything inherently slutty about the way she was sitting, or the way the clothes looked on her, in fact, I'd seen her wear significantly less, bathing suits even. But it was the intimacy behind her wearing clothes that I'd worn. That it was a very… girlfriendly thing to do. And Sam was DEFINITELY not girlfriendly.

When we were finished eating, I handed Sam my cell phone.

I said to her pointedly, "Call Carly. She's worried."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"What did you tell her?" She asked, almost shyly.

"I didn't have much to tell. I just told her you came here and you were hurt. I told her you were probably looking for her. She's in LA with Spencer."

Her head snapped up.

"For how long?"

"She said a few weeks before I told her about you, I think she was ready to come back, but then she said it would be better for you if she stayed, so that your mom would think you were with her…" I trailed off.

She nodded again."Yeah, that's probably a good idea. I only have to really hide out until my birthday." She said nonchalantly.

"Sam, why didn't you ever…" I shook my head before I finished. Carly was right. Sam would tell me when she was ready.

"Never mind, it's not my business. Just give her a call. You can use my room; I'll stay out here to give you some privacy." I said, taking a second helping of spaghetti and meatballs into the living room and parking it on the couch.

"You're not breaking any rules eating in the living room are you, Freddie Darling?" She teased.

"You're not going to say a word, Samantha." I emphasized her full name. I hated it when she called me Freddie Darling as much as she hated it when I called her Samantha. She didn't flinch like she normally did, instead, she frowned.

Without a word, she went into my bedroom, and I shrugged it off. I flipped to a baseball game and took a big bite of noodles. But a full minute hadn't even passed before Sam came back out into the living room.

She stood in front of my door for a minute and I looked over at her. She looked nervous as hell. I turned the TV off. "What's up Sam?" I asked, genuinely concerned. Nervous was another emotion that I rarely, if ever, saw from Sam.

She swallowed a few times and opened her mouth to speak twice before she almost whispered, "You should listen, too." It took me a minute to get what she was saying, but then she started dialing the phone and sat down on the chair next to my spot on the couch.

She wanted me to know what happened.

"Hey Carly, it's Sam." She looked at me, and the fear in her eyes made me want to cry for her.

"I'm fine. I'm fine… No, I'm at Freddie's, I didn't steal his phone." She smiled and rolled her eyes. I smiled at how well Carly knew Sam.

"Well… Freddie's actually sitting here too, I… I don't want to have to repeat myself, so I figured I'd just tell it once and then I wouldn't have to tell it again." She was speaking harshly, but I could tell how hard this was for her. She was REALLY trusting me.

"I woke up to my mom taking money out of last night's uniform for booze, as normal, and then she left to go get it."

She was avoiding my eyes, her own darting around the room, looking completely embarrassed.

"So, I planned on coming over to your house, since it's my day off at the diner, and I got into the shower, but CHUCK came home."

She spat the name venomously. I didn't know the guy personally, but I met him this afternoon, and knew enough to know that he wasn't a fine upstanding young man.

"He… he came into the bathroom before I could get dressed, and… and he…" She was stuttering for the words, and I assumed the worst. No, he was no upstanding young man; he was the lowest, most vile creature on the planet. I clenched my fists and took a deep breath to control the anger that was boiling up inside of me.

"No! No! He didn't get that far." She looked directly at me, and though it was clear that she was answering Carly's verbal question, she was answering my nonverbal one as well.

"He just…" She sighed, "He managed to feel a boob, before I knocked him off me and kicked him in the nuts." She smiled then, and I smiled with her, happy that she was able to get some vindication.

"I tried to run, but my mom came home too soon. She and Chuck beat me up. I woke up later and they were passed out, so I came to your house. You weren't there, so Freddie let me in."

She seemed relieved that the hard part of her story was explained, and everything else I already knew.

She filled Carly in on the blanks on the rest of the evening, with her mom and Chuck, how my mom had made sure she was okay, and that she made kick ass spicy meatballs that even a "sissy like Freddie liked."

Then Carly must have asked something that had Sam stuttering and grasping for words.

"Umm, Well, I'm not sure… I mean, I guess so, but I didn't know… you know how she… yeah…" She was avoiding looking at me again, but I had no idea why.

"Thanks, Carly, I appreciate it. You know I do." She laughed and said her goodbyes before handing the phone to me.

"She wants to speak with the lady of the house."

I rolled my eyes and took the phone.

"Sup!" I said enthusiastically, while sticking my tongue out at Sam.

"Sam doesn't know if she's allowed to sleep at your house, so I told her she could crash at my place since you have a key."

"Ooooh, that's what she was all tongue tied about." I teased, and Sam pushed me off the couch.

"OWW! Sam, be nice to the man with the key to your castle!" I shouted.

Carly laughed. "Nice to know Sam is still Sam!"

"Yeah, yeah." I grumbled.

"So, that was a really big deal for Sam. You know that."

"Yep." I agreed.

"Good. Well, I'm glad it worked out, just let her stay at the house… in fact, you can give her the key if you want." She suggested.

"No way." I said with a smirk.

Carly laughed again, "Okay, okay, enjoy your power trip. I'll see you guys. I'm still not sure when, but just call if you want to talk, okay?"

"Okay Car, lata."

"Lata!"

I hung up the phone and Sam was sitting in the chair, her arms crossed, pouting.

"Awww, are you embarrassed, cuz I made you feel weird for wondering if you could stay at "Freddie Darling's" house?" I teased.

She threw a pillow at me and I caught it with ease. I laughed and she was smiling.

"My mom did tell me she wanted you to stay here. She told me to sleep on the couch." I said earnestly.

She looked shocked. "Really? Your mom wanted me to stay?"

I laughed again. "Sam, my mom may be a lot of things, but she's not a heartless bitch." As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

She smiled brightly without missing a beat, "Well, mine is." And she punched my shoulder. I sighed in relief.

She stood up and held out her palm. "Key?"

I smirked and shook my head no.

She frowned and punched my shoulder. "Key." She demanded.

I stood up and walked out the door, she was right behind me.

I held her off with one hand and unlocked the door with the other. It was NOT easy.

"Why wouldn't you just give me the key, Benson?" She asked, frustrated.

"You're in. Good night." I replied with a smile and walked out.

She slammed the door behind me, and I chuckled a little bit.

It was late by the time the baseball game was over, I went back into my room and changed into some comfy pajama pants and a t shirt, I grabbed a book from the shelf and lay down in bed, trying to relax from the over stimulating day.

It was then I noticed the pill sitting on the nightstand. The pill meant for Sam. The pill that would help Sam, who was in crazy pain. I mean, I had gotten used to her swollen eye and lip, but I doubted that she had.

I decided that I could just go over and check on her. If she was asleep, no harm done, and if she was awake, then she'd take the pill.

I walked over and stood in front of the door, not sure if I should knock or just open it with the key. I decided to knock.

No answer.

I didn't know if she was worried that I was her mother or not, so I decided to go ahead in and check on her anyway.

I opened the door with the key and slipped it back into my pajama pocket. I walked into the kitchen and filled a glass of water. I figured this way I could leave the pill and the water next to her bed so that if she woke up, she could take it.

I climbed the stairs up to Carly's room, and stood in front of the door.

I knocked lightly, and heard a very timid, "Freddie? Is that you?"

I opened the door and saw a very timid, very scared, very NOT Sam like girl sitting on the bed.

She was rocking back and forth, holding her knees, and she just looked lost.

I was at a loss for words for the second time today, and again, the overwhelming urge to touch her came back.

I crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to her, setting the glass down on the nightstand with the pill. I put my arms around her and started rubbing her back in a comforting, but not overly intimate way. It was getting tricky to keep this balance.

She wasn't crying, which was good, but she was shaking.

"Ugh. I am such a basket case right now." She laughed shakily.

I laughed, "It's okay Sam, if anyone has a right to be a basket case, it's you."

"Damnit! I wish Carly were here." She nearly shouted.

For a minute I was offended, like I wasn't good enough. But I realized that it had nothing to do with me really, it was more the fact that Carly knew her, she was comfortable with Carly. Carly would know what to do and say and it wouldn't be awkward for her. And I wanted that for Sam too.

She pulled away from me and took the pill off the nightstand and threw it back with the water.

"Thanks, Benson. I was gonna come wake you up for this in a minute. It was getting pretty bad."

I winced and wished that I'd thought of it sooner.

"Sorry, I got distracted with the baseball game; I didn't see it until I went to go to bed." I said, apologetically.

She waved it off. "No worries, it's fine now." She said it like she wasn't just talking about the pill. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself that everything was fine now.

"Is that why you weren't sleeping? The pain?" I asked, my eyebrows rose, wondering if she was going to let me in a little bit more tonight.

She bit her lip and shook her head no. "I… I'm afraid she's going to come back tonight. With the cops. They'll get you to open the door again if she comes." She had her knees curled up again, and had started rocking.

"How bad will it be if she finds you, Sam?" I asked softly.

"You remember when I broke my leg and arm last summer?" She asked.

My mind went back to last summer, when Sam had been in a cast after a bad car accident.

Oh wow. There was no car accident. Jesus Christ.

"Oh." I said, lamely, not knowing what else to say.

"I'm really sorry, Sam, I wish I'd known. I'd of…" but I couldn't finish the sentence.

She smiled sarcastically. "I'm glad you didn't know. I needed the normalcy. Now I'm gonna have to deal with your pity eyes." She sighed. "You're going to treat me different now, and I'm gonna have to deal with that. It happened with Carly, but it was for the better, so maybe it won't be so bad." She shrugged.

"Pity eyes?" I questioned.

"Yeah, if it was just me who needed to crash at Carly's and you had the key, and you didn't know all this shit, you wouldn't be here right now." She accused, and she was probably right, but it wasn't pity that kept me here now. I couldn't figure out what it was, but it wasn't pity.

"I don't pity you, Sam." I said truthfully.

She raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

"I'm serious. I don't envy you, that's for sure, and I think it totally SUCKS ASS that you've been through all the shit you've been through, I wouldn't wish that on anyone. But..." I shrugged, "I admire you a lot; you going through all that crap, it made you this incredibly strong person…" I shrugged again. "I don't know; it's a fucked up thing to say, but I think your mom being the way she is only made you better."

She was looking at me funny, and then she said, "That is the both the most fucked up, and nicest thing you've ever said to me." Then she laughed.

She flopped on her back and I stayed sitting, but pushed my back up against the wall. We were quiet for a few minutes before I asked, "How come we were never friends, Sam?"

"We were. We are. Just a different kind of friends." She answered. Well, duh. That much I knew.

"No, I mean, how come we're not friends like you and Carly or me and Carly are friends?"

"Well, we're not friends like me and Carly because you don't possess a uterus and therefore are unable to meet my criteria for best friend. And we're not friends like you and Carly, because you don't drool over me like a Saint Bernard. Not that I'm complaining. I wouldn't want a stalker as my best friend." She teased lightly.

"I don't drool over her. And I don't stalk." I said defensively.

"Yeah, right. You just worship the ground she walks on. I'm just happy that you're not a total perv… You're oddly respectful for a teenage guy." She added.

"That may be the nicest thing YOU'VE ever said to ME." I laughed.

"Well, it's true… but… I mean, we both are friends with Carly, so that's our common link, but other than Carly herself, we just didn't have much in common." She shrugged.

"That's because we've never had a conversation that didn't include Carly! Honestly, Sam, I don't know anything about you. I learned more today than in the last 5 years!" I said.

"I kept it that way on purpose. I don't like pity." She said through tight lips.

"I already told you, I don't pity you." I answered.

"Yeah, yeah. You say that now, but you'll see. You'll treat me different." She sat up and got out of bed.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Umm... to the bathroom… is that OKAY?" She said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes and watched her retreating form as she left the room. It occurred to me that she was still wearing my clothes. I frowned. Wouldn't she have changed by now? She was in Carly's clothes more often than she was in her own. Why wouldn't she be wearing her stuff by now? I shrugged it off, and assumed that she just wasn't thinking about clothes at this moment in time. I was glad I didn't mention it to Sam, she'd of called me a girl for thinking about something as ridiculous as what she was wearing.

She came back in, and she looked relaxed. Her eyes were a bit glazed and it looked like the pain killer was starting to take effect. I got up to leave so she could get some sleep.

"You're not leaving, are you?" She asked, and then bit her lip. "I mean, I don't care, if you want to leave, that's fine." But she couldn't fully back peddle out of that one. She didn't want me to leave. She must be really scared.

I smirked, enjoying the set up she'd just given me. "No, I was going to go to the bathroom, is that OKAY?"

She laughed, sounding relieved, whether she was relieved at my easing the discomfort or relieved at my not leaving, I'm not sure.

I came back a second later and Sam was getting pillows and blankets set up on the bed. I raised my eyebrows questioningly at her. She shrugged.

"You don't have to stay, really. Your bed is way more comfortable." She laughed. "I think it's funny that I can say that. Your mother must have shit a brick when she heard me in her Freddie darling's room."

I smiled. "Yeah, she did. It was pretty funny."

We stood awkwardly next to the bed, and she climbed in first and sat up.

I shifted my feet, "I can crash on the couch, or in Spencer's room. I mean, I get why you want me here, but I don't need to sleep with you." The words came out, and we both blushed at the double meaning.

"I mean, I didn't mean, I.."

"Why is this weird, Freddie?" She asked, her eyes narrowing. "This is weird, right? We've never been weird!" She said exasperated as she flopped down on her back.

I sighed in relief that at least it wasn't me who knew something was off.

"I don't know, Sam, I think it's because we've never been ANYTHING… this is the most time I've spent with you alone… ever. And it's weird, because as you mentioned, I don't possess a uterus, which makes the sleeping arrangements awkward." I ran my fingers through my hair.

"Yeah, that's prolly it" She was starting to slur her words a bit, and I knew the drugs were kicking in.

"Ok, I'll just crash in Spencer's room." I said and started out of the room.

"No, Freddie… Please, stay." She said softly. "Please, stay."

I looked over and she had her eyes closed. She was falling asleep.

Was it the drugs talking? Would she want me to stay if she was coherent? Would she freak out in the morning if I was still here?

I couldn't deny the fact that I didn't want to leave. If I left, I would be going against what I wanted, and what Sam asked right now.

I sighed and flipped off the light switch, turning back towards the bed.

I pulled a pillow off the bed. I threw it on Carly's overstuffed couch and tried to get at comfortable as possible, which was NOT that comfortable.

I whispered, "G'night Sam."

I started drifting off to sleep almost immediately, but I heard her right before I slipped into unconsciousness.

"Thank you, Freddie Darling. Thank you."


	7. Proper Porn Placement

A/N Thanks again for all the reviews and the PM's. I'm so happy that peeps are reading my little story!

Disclaimer: I own a gorgeous coach bag and a iPod touch with 2700 songs….but not iCarly….

(PS. Don't get your hopes up, the title of this chapter in no way indicates a lemon…sorry)

OFFICIAL SEAL OF EDIT. EMMA IS THE BEST BETA IN THE WORLD PEOPLE!

Chapter 7

SPOV

Proper Porn Placement

He stayed. He stayed and I was MORTIFIED. I don't remember exactly what I said, but I know that I didn't want him to leave, and I must have said something to get him to stay.

It was early, probably before 6am. The pills had worn off and I was in some serious pain. But I didn't want to wake up Freddie. Though he looked gloriously uncomfortable on that couch. It made me smile at the way he was laying on his side, one arm and leg on the couch, and the other dangling off the side. He didn't snore, which was too bad, I would have had a fun time teasing him about that, but he just looked so peaceful in his sleep. I knew I didn't look like that when I slept. I can't remember the last time I had sleep where I wasn't either having nightmares or just restless sleep in general.

I lay in bed for while when I heard a knock on the door.

I panicked and sat up. Ready to bolt. Always ready to bolt. I jumped out of bed and threw on my shoes.

"Sam? Are you in there? Freddie? It's your mother!" Ms. Benson shouted through the front door.

As I immediately relaxed, Freddie jumped off the couch and flew to the door. I laughed at how afraid he was of his mother for VERY different reasons than I was afraid of mine.

I walked out to talk to Ms. Benson. I felt like I'd been the cause of enough of Freddie's problems for long enough and he didn't need to take the fall for this too, but when I came out into the living room, Ms. Benson didn't look angry or upset, she looked relieved.

"I'm fixing breakfast if you'd like some." She said to both of us, and then walked across the hall, shutting the door behind her.

Freddie looked at me and shrugged. "She does make a mean ham and cheese omelet." He smirked.

Damn that boy knew my weakness. Meat and Cheese.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be over in a minute." I said as I headed toward the bathroom.

I took a long shower and tried to relax the pain away. Not working. Plus, I got spoiled yesterday with Freddie's shower. I wondered if he'd let me use his whirlpool tub today.

I got out and got dressed in Carly's clothes. I sighed when I looked in the mirror and noticed that the yellow top didn't look anything like it did on Carly last week, and I had to roll the jeans 3 times in order for them to not drag, but I looked pretty cute, as long as you didn't look at my face, which was still pretty bad.

I knocked on Freddie's door and he opened it.

"Hey, before I forget, my mom wanted me to give you a key to our place in case you ever needed it for anything." He pushed a key into my palm.

"Is that supposed to be funny? I can get into your house but not Carly's?" I said.

He smirked. "I didn't think of it, but yeah, that is pretty funny." He turned and headed toward the kitchen while I grumbled under my breath.

The smell assaulted me and it was beyond heavenly. I was used to working at a diner where it smelled of nothing but grease. This smelled of butter and eggs and bacon. My mouth watered.

"Samantha, I put out another pain pill on the counter. Though your face looks much better today. How are you feeling?" Ms. Benson said as she flipped the omelet on the pan.

"I feel better. Not great, but better. I think I'll be back to normal in a few more days." I said, grabbing a handful of bacon off the plate. Freddie grabbed a handful as well and we munched in silence for a few minutes.

"So, what are your plans today, kids?" She asked, putting an omelet on each plate and handing one to each of us.

Freddie and I exchanged glances and shrugged.

"No idea." He said.

"Hadn't really thought about it." I said.

Truthfully, I hadn't. I didn't think too far ahead about anything. Every time I did, shit changed and plans got pushed to the side. I tended to live by the seat of my pants.

"Why don't you go to the lake today?" She suggested. "It's supposed to be beautiful, plus, no one will be looking for you there." She added softly, giving me the inevitable pity eyes.

I sighed and stabbed my omelets. "That sounds great," I said, a little harshly. She looked at Freddie, who just shrugged.

"Okay, then. I'll pack you guys a lunch and then I'll get to sleep. Another shift tonight."

I didn't pay much attention to what she was packing; I was too busy stewing over the fact that I was going to end up with the same pity eyes from Freddie. All day. It was going to be annoying as hell and I wasn't looking forward to it.

I finished quickly, thanked Ms. Benson for breakfast and told Freddie I was heading back to Carly's to get ready.

Before I got to the door, Freddie grabbed my hand and turned me around. He reached into his pocket and pushed another key into my palm.

He smirked. "I know you didn't lock it behind you last time, but can you lock it next time you leave?"

I nodded and turned to leave, but he hadn't let go of my hand.

"Hey." He said and turned me around again.

"I'm sorry about my mom. But I don't pity you. You're still annoying, pushy, rude Sam to me. No different." Then he let my hand go, almost to prove a point. "Kay?"

I wanted to believe him. Time would tell if he really did treat me differently or not. I could give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Whatever." I shrugged.

I went and grabbed one of Carly's bathing suits, one that I had a SLIGHT chance of filling out, and realized that today was NOT a good day for wearing a bathing suit; I was covered in bruises and cuts.

I walked back over to Freddie's. Using my key, I let myself in and knocked on his bedroom door.

"Yeah, Ma?" he said, as he opened it, wearing nothing but his pajama pants, slung low on his hips. His chest was muscular and defined, and he caught me blatantly staring at him.

He grinned knowingly. "Take a picture, Puckett."

I blushed and punched him the gut.

"Sorry, reflex reaction." I said, unapologetically, before walking into his room and plopping down on his bed.

"Do you mind?" He asked while rubbing his stomach, which was also defined. When did Freddie start going to the gym?

"No. I don't. Now please get a shirt on before I throw up all over your carpet and Freddie Darling gets in trouble."

"Please. You like what you see, don't deny it." But as he said it, he was throwing his t-shirt from last night over his head.

"What do you need?" He asked.

"Well, I wanted to know if we had to go to the beach today. I'm not exactly in bathing suit condition right now." I lifted my shirt slightly to reveal some pretty bad bruises and cuts on my stomach.

He stared for a beat too long and then met my eyes.

"No, we don't have to go to the beach. We can do whatever. I'm not picky." He said, going through his drawers looking for pants I assumed.

As he was digging through his drawers, a thought occurred to me, and I couldn't filter the thoughts before they came out.

"So where do you keep your porn stash?" I asked, before jumping up and heading toward his dresser. "Underwear drawer? Closet? In between the mattress and box spring?"

His jaw dropped and I smiled at him, still loving that he was so easy. "I don't have a porn stash, Sam."

Okay, he lied with perfect ease to my mother yesterday, but he was the worst liar in the world today. I guess I was glad my mom had picked yesterday to beat the shit out of me and not today.

I raised my eyebrows. "What happens if I find it, Freddie?" I smirked, his face looking more and more panicked.

I laughed. "Relax, I'm not going to rifle through your stuff. I don't even want to see it; I just wanted to know where you kept it. Where a guy keeps his porn says a lot about him, ya know?" I said.

He squinted. "You can, huh? Enlighten me." He said sarcastically.

I lay back on his uber comfortable bed and folded my hands behind me head. He leaned against his dresser.

"Sure!" I said, "The type and placement of porn says a lot about a guy, and not just what he's into in the sack, but how he is as a person. I mean, a guy who leaves keeps his porn in the underwear drawer is a closet perv. He doesn't want anyone to know he's a perv, but he is, and he's ashamed of it."

Freddie looked entertained by my rant, so I continued.

"A guy who keeps his porn in the closet, or someplace generally inaccessible either A) has kids or B) is into some weird shit. Sometimes both. You almost always find weird porn in closets." I shuddered.

"In between the mattress and box spring indicates the guy is lazy. He wants to keep his porn handy, but doesn't want to leave it out in the open. The guy who leaves the porn out in the open, like in the bathroom or on top of a nightstand, that's the WORST kind of guy. I mean, I get that guys use porn, I do, it doesn't bother me, but I just hate it when it's in your face. So disrespectful." I finished my porn soapbox rant, and looked over at Freddie who was still smiling crookedly.

"I can't believe you have this much knowledge of guy's porn." He shook his head. "All right then, Sensei of porn type and placement, what's the most acceptable type and location for porn to paint a guy in the most positive light?" He laughed lightly.

I played along.

"Classy porn. No Hustler or Jugs. Playboy has been around a long time for a reason. And the ONLY acceptable placement of porn is…" and I looked at it as I said it, "the nightstand drawer."

A momentary look of panic crossed Freddie's face, and a bright smile broke over my face.

"Congratulations, Freddie, you have proper porn placement. Good for you!" I flopped back on the bed, laughing hysterically. Freddie grabbed a pair of pants and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I heard the shower start and closed my eyes. I let my mind wander, but before I could help it, the vision of Freddie, naked and in the shower was vivid in my mind. I won't lie, I've envisioned Freddie like this before; in a sexual way; but it was different now. Now I could vividly place what the shower would look like, since I'd been in there. Now that I'd used his soap and shampoo, I could envision what it would smell like.

I had been trying so hard to get him out of my head like this. It had been this way since day one, when he fell head over heels for Carly. I knew he wasn't interested in me like that, so I pushed him away harder, rejecting him before he could reject me. I know he thought it was because I was jealous of him and Carly, and I was at first, but I had gotten over that fairly quickly. It wasn't fair to see my best friend reject something that I wanted over and over. It wasn't fair that he didn't notice me like that. It wasn't fair that even if he did, that I wasn't even close to what he deserved.

I had convinced myself that I didn't care. That it didn't matter. We were platonic and I was fine with that. Until the kiss. It wasn't that I couldn't have stuck up for him after Tim left. It wasn't that Freddie was incapable of sticking up for himself. I simply saw the opportunity to kiss him without raising any questions, so I took it. I validated it later, telling myself that it was the ultimate validation for Freddie's reputation, and I was right, no one ever called him gay again; but the truth was that I kissed him because I'd been dying to since 8th grade, and I'd finally found my excuse.

And it was a phenomenal kiss. I knew that he'd never kissed another girl before, and I felt sort of bad for stealing that sweet innocent experience away from him, but not bad enough to wish I didn't do it. When I kissed him, I poured every ounce of my desire and feelings for him, as I tugged on his hair and pulled him into me, and I was fine with it being unreciprocated. I expected it to be unreciprocated. I expected him to not react and to think that it was to decoy Tim. But when he put his hands on my waist and kissed me back, I lost my composure. I pressed my tongue into his mouth and moaned, aware that I was getting carried away but not caring in the least. But when his hands lowered to my hips and he caressed my tongue with his, I was starting to really lose it. I was three seconds from pulling away and telling him to take me against the lockers, when he groaned into my mouth. The sound both sent me flying high and grounded me at the same time. It was so intimate and sexual, and raw. It appealed to my primal senses. I wanted him to possess me in every way and that scared the living shit out of me.

I pulled away and kissed his nose sweetly, almost a goodbye kiss of sorts. Keeping in character, I thanked him for "last night" and left Tim with his jaw hanging. I walked away and threw a glance over at Freddie. He had his eyes closed and his head against the locker, panting, and looking like he'd just has his world turned upside down.

I opened my eyes when I heard the shower turn off and I sat up guiltily. I thought about that kiss far too often. I thought about Freddie that way far too often.

When he came out of the bathroom, he was shirtless again.

"You just like being naked around me, Benson." I joked.

He smiled. "Your porn conversation distracted me before I went into the bathroom, I only grabbed pants before I went in there… I guess it could have been worse, I could have only grabbed a shirt..." He said, and wagged his eyebrows at me.

I made a gagging gesture and he put a blue polo over his head. He laughed.

"Okay, so no beach. What's the plan?" He asked.

I was drawing a blank. "Ummm…" I said, straining to think of something to do.

"Why don't we just go catch a flick?" He suggested, shrugging. "It's dark, so you won't have to worry about people looking at you, and I think they're playing something with shit that blows up." He said, smirking.

"Are you saying I have no taste in movies, Benson? Because it's possible they're playing some pansy ass foreign flick that requires reading."

He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not saying you HAVE no taste, I'm saying you have TERRIBLE taste, Puckett. A lot of foreign films are artful, and have purpose and depth. Please explain to me how robots that turn into cars and fight other robots that turn into cars is deep." He raised his eyebrows sarcastically.

"I refuse to get into a deep discussion about The Transformers with someone who doesn't appreciate their value in society." I sniffed indignantly.

He chuckled and put on his sneakers. "You have to have good taste in something Puckett, I just don't know what it is yet."


	8. Well crap, I like her

*Officially BETA'D* Emma is a goddess.

A/N…so in case you didn't notice, I really like a slow buildup….but we're getting closer to them figuring all their teenage angsty feelings out.

There's a link to a banner for my story on my profile page. I love it so much. My Beta made it for me because I'm suckish and bad at anything with photos…

Disclaimer: I own a fantastic Prada knock off, but not iCarly.

Chapter 8 FPOV

Well, crap. I like her.

I let Sam have her way, and watched shit get blown up for 2 hours. The three of us go to movies all the time, and it never had a "date" feeling before. It felt strange for just two of us to be going to the movies together. Even stranger that Sam and I were the two. I always envisioned going to the movies alone with Carly, not Sam. I guess it still didn't feel date-ish, other than the weird pulling sensation to touch her. I must have frowned every time I felt it, which was a ton, because as we were walking back to the car after the movie, Sam punched me in the arm and told me to stop internalizing shit.

"Why do you do that?" I asked, rubbing my arm.

"Do what?" She asked, genuinely confused.

"Hit me! If you want to know what I'm thinking, just ask!" I said, exasperatedly.

"Ok, what were you thinking?" She asked, reaching the car, and crossing her arms over her chest.

_Oh shit. I probably shouldn't have made her ask me that NOW, when I was thinking about wanting to hold her hand…._

"Um… well, I was thinking about the movie and how absolutely horrible it was." I muttered and walked around to the driver's side.

Sam stalked behind me. "God. You're a HORRIBLE liar! No you weren't! Just admit it!" She yelled.

I turned around, feeling like I'd been punched in the gut. All the blood just drained out of my face. How did she know?

I looked at her and she looked downright furious. Yeah, I guess that made sense. She probably wouldn't like me thinking about her like that.

I sighed, "I'm sorry, Sam. I…"

She interrupted me, "I TOLD YOU, it would be like this. You'd get all weird and pity me. I told you, that you'd feel sorry for me, and it would get all weird." She stomped away and opened her door, clearly frustrated.

I considered my options here. I could go along with this and make her feel like a charity case, or I could confess what I was really thinking about. Neither option was particularly appealing.

I sighed, realizing that I'd rather humiliate myself than make her feel like a charity case. I got into the car and started it up.

"That's not what I was thinking at all Sam. Honestly, I'd kind of forgotten about it until now. Wait- that sounds bad. It's not that I forgot, but it's not in the forefront of my mind. I really wasn't thinking about anything that happened yesterday at all."

I looked up at her and she still looked angry and uncomfortable.

"Really, Sam. You gotta believe me, I wasn't thinking anything pitiful about you at all."

She snorted, "Right. Then what WERE you thinking about that made you get all frowny and introspective."

I winced, I guess I'd been half hoping that she'd just believe me and let it drop.

"I was just thinking about… girls." There, that was vague.

She raised her eyebrow and smiled, "Ahhhh, you were dreaming about our Carly, were you?"

_Yes! Carly! A perfect out!_

"Yeah. I mean, what is it that girls want? I just don't get it." I said, and breathed a huge sigh of relief that I could keep the weird pulling feelings to myself and would avoid another painful punch. I mean, I've been going to the gym for about a year now, but I was still sure Sam could kick my ass.

Sam laughed, "No, Freddie, you don't get it. Because the truth is, most GIRLS don't know what they want. That's the big secret. We claim we know, but we really have no idea. Guys try really hard to be what girls want, but then when we get it, we don't want it anymore. We say we want a bad boy, then we get a bad boy and we want a nice guy. The grass is greener and all that bullshit."

This made me laugh. "I figured as much. You know, you seem to know a lot about relationships over there, Sam. You got a secret boyfriend I don't know about?" I teased lightly. But I had to acknowledge the little part of my brain that was jealous over the idea.

_Huh. That's new._

She scoffed, "Not hardly. I'm not the girl you date. I'm not exactly the girl you take home to meet mom. I'm the girl you HIDE from your girlfriend."

This didn't exactly surprise me that she felt that way about herself. But I was really curious now.

"Really? Like who?" I asked.

"Freddie, are you trying to get me to kiss and tell?" She said, mocking offense.

I laughed, "Yes. I guess I am."

She paused to consider it. "Okay, I'll tell you some of my sordid history if you buy dinner."

"And what exactly do I get out of this deal?" I asked sarcastically.

"You get full rights to my story, and you can use my smutty life experiences to fluff out in any of your man diaries that you write in." She said, just as sarcastically.

I laughed, "Are you insinuating that I have no smutty life experiences?"

"Yes, Freddie. That's exactly what I'm saying." She said as she stuck her tongue out at me.

We pulled up to the diner.

"Hey! This is cheating! You know I eat free here!" She whined.

I shrugged, "You didn't specify a location, and I'm just trying to get more "bang" for my buck." I laughed at my own bad pun, and Sam rolled her eyes.

She sat for a minute, and bit her bottom lip, then winced, likely remembering it was still tender. I didn't think about how she was going to have to face all the people she worked with, with a black eye.

"Sam, we don't have to, I didn't think… I just forgot..." I trailed.

She frowned, "You forgot I had a black eye and busted lip?"

I laughed when she repeated it. It did sound ridiculous.

"Yes, well no, but I'm not really focused on it." I looked at her when I said the next part, "I don't really notice it."

It was true.

She shifted uncomfortably, and cleared her throat. "Well that's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried my mom will come here looking for me."

I nodded and was about to put the car back in reverse to leave, but she stopped my hand. Her touch was soothing and far more pleasurable than it should have been.

"No! No! We can go here. It's fine. I need to kind of explain everything to Lou anyway…" She said and got out of the car.

We entered the diner, and Sam acknowledged pretty much every single person in there, from patron to waiter to the cook, Lou, the most cliché short order cook you could think of. He was a big, burly man with a cigarette constantly sticking in between his lips, with about 4 chins and his arms covered in tattoos. He was the owner of the restaurant here and Sam really respected him.

Everyone in the place wanted Sam's story but it was Lou she told.

"What the hell happened to you, kid?" He all but shouted.

"Fight." She said abruptly through tight lips.

He nodded, "I can see that. They won, eh?" He gestured to her face.

"Yep." She said as she nodded back.

"You won't be fighting THEM again, will ya?" He chuckled.

She paused for a minute and he looked up at her reaction, which was stone cold.

"Not if I can help it." She replied softly.

He nodded, seeming to understand. It made sense that he knew what was going on with her mom. She spent almost as much time here as she did with Carly and me.

"So, if I see anyone looking for you…" He trailed off.

"Not here, haven't been in days. You have no idea where I went. Just took off." She instructed.

"Got it. Now go sit down with the boyfriend." Sam rolled her eyes. This wasn't the first time Lou referred to me as "the boyfriend". He just couldn't figure out whose boyfriend I was. I guess the idea that I wasn't with either of them completely eluded him, no matter how many times we tried to explain it.

Sam continued to chat with the other waitresses and staff. She looked so different here, so at ease, so comfortable. She looked… beautiful. It was the first time I'd ever thought that while I was with her. When I thought about her objectively, or if someone asked for a description, (and there was no chance of it getting back to her) then yes, I'd describe her as pretty, but whenever I was with her, she was just Sam. Funny, sarcastic, tough... she was a buddy.

Beautiful didn't ever come into my list of adjectives.

_Huh. That's new too._

I must have been frowning again, because Sam pulled her fist back to punch me. I flinched and she relaxed her fist and took a breath.

"What are you thinking, Freddie?" She asked me, with a patronizing smile on her face.

I burst into laughter and we both grabbed a booth.

She got distracted by the waitress taking our order and shouting back to Lou to "make it right". I shook my head.

"So, what do you want to know?" She asked.

I frowned and considered. What did I want to know?

"How about you tell me what you'd tell Carly?" I asked.

She laughed. "No way. You get the PG rated stories."

"What? Why?"

"You can't handle it, Freddie. No offense." She said, laughing.

"Wait. No, why can't I handle it?" I WAS kind of offended.

"Well, you're just so… innocent." She shrugged.

I blushed, embarrassed that she was right, and humiliated that I couldn't defend myself in the least.

"Hey!" She said, smacking my arm. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Freddie. Seriously. I'm not making fun of you."

"Yeah. Okay." I said, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back in the booth.

She huffed. "Look, I didn't mean that you couldn't HANDLE it, I just mean, that you can't really relate, being that you don't have a uterus and all." She muttered.

"Mmm-hmmm" I said, through tight lips.

She huffed again, and started squirming in her seat.

"And… think about it this way… you know how you just felt when I called you innocent… well… in the girl world, being referred to as NOT innocent makes me feel the same way…."

I nodded. Okay, that made sense. The ole double standard that guys who have sex are pimps, but girls are whores.

"I mean, I don't really care what people think, but you're different. You're my friend; I don't want your opinion of me to change." She shrugged again.

"Why are so concerned about my opinion of you changing, Sam? Before yesterday, which didn't change anything, for the millionth time, what did you think my opinion of you was?"

She squirmed more in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was heading. I was too, to be honest, but it felt oddly thrilling at the same time.

She swallowed, "I don't know, I guess I think that you think of me as tough and independent, and can take care of myself. I know you think I'm loyal to Carly…"

"And to me…" I added.

"Yeah, I guess." She retorted, blushing a little.

"I don't know, I really have no idea how you think of me when it comes to boys. I'd like to think that I haven't given you enough info to let you have an opinion at all." She laughed.

"Well, you definitely succeeded there." I laughed with her. "Seriously, though, whenever you and Carly would talk boys with me rolling my eyes in the background, it was always Carly talking with you adding commentary…"

She laughed, "Yep, that's how I roll."

She took a sip of soda and the food arrived, she took a big bite of burger and moaned. The fucking moan. Brings me right back to the kiss every fucking time.

"So good." She said with her mouth full.

I was too busy pouring over the memory of her lips pressed against mine, and trying not to let my own body react.

"Damn it, Freddie, I want to punch you again. Did you always make these "thinking faces" before?" She said, frustrated.

I laughed, "Yeah, probably, but you had Carly to pay attention to, you've never had to talk this much to me before."

She nodded in agreement.

"So, then. What do you want to know?"

"Who?" I asked.

"Umm… you want them alphabetically, or a time line?" She smiled as she popped a fry into her mouth.

"Start however you want." I shrugged.

"Well, the first boy that felt me up was when we were in 8th grade, Trent Williams." She said, looking at me and waiting for a reaction, and when she didn't get one, continued.

"He was dating Missy Billings and we made out in his parents garage whenever he wasn't with her or his friends."

_Why did I want to punch Trent Williams? I just saw him 3 months ago and we were friendly. This is so weird._

"Then for a while, it was Nick Richards, who was dating Sarah Ellis. Then Aaron Rush, who was dating Ashley Brumley, then Liam Childs, who was with Wendy, then Vince who was with Lola... you get the idea…." She said as she bit into her burger.

"And you were okay with these guys having girlfriends?" I asked, not really caring that these boys were cheating on their girlfriends, but more upset that she wasn't being given the attention and respect she deserved.

"Well, yes and no. I'm not exactly a flowers and chocolates kind of girl. I don't know if I know how to do the "girlfriend" thing, but yeah, it would have been nice to not have to sneak around all the time. It gets old." She shrugged.

I pondered this. We were quiet for a minute. "How old were you when you… ya know…" I asked, blushing beet red I'm sure.

Sam giggled, "Woah, going right for the good stuff, my kind of man!" She said with her mouth full.

She swallowed her burger and took a drink.

"Well, it was 10th grade. He had had a party and all his friends had gone home early because him and his girlfriend were fighting. He called me over and we polished off the booze that he had gotten for his buddies. And it just sort of happened. It wasn't particularly good."

I laughed. "Sounds romantic."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah, nothing says romance like a 12 pack and a dirty pool table."

I nearly spit my drink out at the visual image.

"You lost your virginity on a pool table. That's awesome."

She laughed. "No, it isn't. But thanks for reiterating why men don't get it. THAT, for the record, is NOT what we want."

I laughed. "So, who was it?"

She got quiet. "Does it really matter?"

"Umm… well NOW it does. Why don't you want to tell me?" I tried to mentally picture a guy that would have acted different around Sam in 10th grade.

She sighed. "It was Tim."

Tim. Motherfucking Tim. Tim, who tortured me relentlessly until…

"Wait, did this happen before you and I…" I said and then stopped. We'd NEVER talked about the kiss. It NEVER got brought up. I was too damn terrified.

She bit her lip and looked at her plate, "Yes, I kissed you after that happened."

Wow. My mind was totally blank. Not only did that totally explain why Tim knew so much about Sam, but it also let me know that she wasn't going to punch me in the face for acknowledging that she and I kissed.

"So, we can talk about that?" I asked, hesitantly, running my hand down the back of my neck nervously.

She looked up at me, totally surprised. "What about it do you want to talk about?"

I expected there to be some bitterness or annoyance in the question, but there was something else there. Anxiety? Nerves, maybe?

And just like that, I knew all this weird shit I'd been feeling with Sam clicked. I liked her. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted her to kiss me back. I wanted to hold her hand and call her my girlfriend. I wanted her to call me her boyfriend. I wanted to be the one who made love to her, and not on a god damn pool table when she was drunk.

It was an overwhelming feeling and I was panicked trying to deal with it all. Sam read my panicked face, and her own face fell, and she looked disappointed.

"It was no big deal, there's not really anything to talk about." She said, talking to her plate.

I had finally resurfaced from swimming in my emotions for Sam and she looked up into my eyes. And I saw it.

I was able to see her truth. And it gave me more courage than I'd ever collected.

"Sam, do you want me to kiss you now?" I asked.

Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. I had made Sam speechless. I smiled and licked my lips and started to reach over the table to kiss her.

Her eyes flitted toward the front of the restaurant and she looked panicked.

"I'll be right back." She said and she bolted off to the bathroom.

While she was gone and I had my head down on the table, preparing for the torture that was about to happen, I heard the loud, unmistakable voice of Jolene Puckett screeching into the restaurant.

"SAMANTHA PUCKETT, ARE YOU IN HERE?"


	9. My Dirty Little Secret

OFFICIALLY BETA'D BY THE AMAZING AUSSIEMMA.

A/N I love all the reviews and PMs so much!

FYI, this is where Sam and Freddie get really OOC, mmmkkkayy?

Also, check out the amazing banner on my profile page made by my Beta!

Disclaimer: I own a disgustingly messy Ford Escape, but not iCarly.

Chapter 9 SPOV

My Dirty Little Secret

I heard my name and shut my eyes to wish it away. But it was real. My mother was here. I was trying to stay calm in the bathroom knowing that Lou would take care of it. If there was anyone that could have taken my mother, it was Lou. I was sure she didn't see me before I saw her and bolted into the bathroom.

If it was possible, I hated her even more at this moment, for ruining my almost perfect moment with Freddie. He was going to kiss me. And, GOD, I wanted him to. But he couldn't possibly like me like that; he only had eyes for Carly. I knew that. Why was I deluding myself like this? Moreover, why was I thinking about this, when my mother was outside looking for me at this very moment? It seemed my priorities were a little off.

But when push came to shove, literally and figuratively, I knew I didn't have anything to worry about. Lou had a restraining order against her and she wasn't allowed in the restaurant. When I first started here, she came in looking for money in the middle of a shift and when I wouldn't give it to her, she got pushy.

Lou, who is the closest thing to a dad that I have, stepped in. Nothing really happened, just a lot of pushing and yelling, but I expected to get fired then and there. But Lou just kicked her out and had a restraining order put out against her. I both envied and respected him for how he dealt with my mother.

So, knowing she couldn't come in, and knowing Lou would make her go away, I patiently waited in the tiny stall, looking at the cracked paint coming off the doors, before the door swung open and I heard Jeanette, the waitress who works opposite shifts as me, tell me it was all clear.

I sighed in relief and exited the bathroom, seeing a pissed off Lou and a pale white, terrified looking Freddie. Poor guy. My mom really has a way with people.

I walked back over to our table and sat down nonchalantly.

I nodded and looked around. Everyone was quiet and waiting for me to say something.

"So… sup?" I said, realizing that it was a ridiculous thing to say, but drawing a complete blank on anything else I could've said.

Freddie stared for a second and burst into laughter. I waited for him to stop, but it got worse, and everyone around him smiled, and even Lou let out a big gaffaw. Freddie laughed harder and harder, and soon I couldn't help but join in. His laughter was infectious.

We were both laughing at nothing and tears were coming to his eyes. He was trying to talk, but nothing was coming out but more laughter and snorts. I laughed harder at the snorts, which made his laughter harder, which made him snort more… you get it.

We finally settled down and both wiped the tears from our eyes, sighing. I smiled and took a fry off his plate, seeing that mine were gone, and he swatted me away, way too late.

"So slow, Freddie, you'll never get anywhere with those reflexes." I smiled and bit into the delicious fried goodness.

He shook his head, and suddenly frowned. I hated seeing him frown. I hated not knowing why he was frowning. I hated being the possible reason for the frowning. It was so fucking annoying.

"Are you done?" He asked abruptly, before I could ask him what he was thinking.

"Yeah, lemme go say bye to Lou." I said and scooted out of the booth.

Lou wasn't back at the grill, but instead in his office. He was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands.

I bit my lip and then winced, again annoyed with myself for forgetting it was still painful.

I cleared my throat and he looked up, standing quickly and walking out to the kitchen. "Ah Sam, good burger?" He asked, smiling.

Lou, god fucking bless Lou. He didn't make me talk, he didn't hug, he didn't do any of the bullshit I didn't want to do.

"Yeah, Lou. It was the best. THANK YOU." I emphasized the Thanks, so he'd know I was thanking him for more than a burger.

"You're welcome, kid." He looked like he was going to say something else, then stopped. I smiled softly and headed toward Freddie.

"Hey, kid?" He called after me.

"Yeah?" I said, turning to face him.

"The boyfriend? He's a keeper."

We walked awkwardly to the car in silence. I didn't know what to say, and it was obvious he didn't know what to say either. I hated that shit was weird. I was anxious beyond all words that he had looked like he was going to kiss me. Why would he do that? What did that mean? The more I thought about it, the more I got lost in my own thoughts and fantasies about Freddie actually wanting to kiss me. The way he wanted Carly. The thought of Carly brought me crashing down to reality. He's always loved Carly. He's never going to see me as anything but Carly's friend, the tough, fucked up girl, who is used by boys.

I was knocked out of my reverie, literally, but a light punch to my shoulder.

I looked up to see Freddie smirking at me. "You were making a "thinking face."" I plastered a smile on my face.

"Sorry." I shrugged.

"Well, what were you thinking?" He asked, his eyes focused on the ground in front of him.

I bit my lip, gently this time; I was starting to remember my injuries. I really wanted to clear the air. I didn't like this awkwardness.

"I'm sorry that things got weird in there. I didn't mean to bring up the ki… the thing that happened. It's in the past; it really doesn't need to get rehashed." I stared at the ground too, not wanting him to see the blatant lie that was all over my face.

He cleared his throat a little. "Oh… yeah… okay, I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to make you feel weird either. I just thought…"

I looked up and his face was beet red and he was shaking his head.

"It doesn't matter, I obviously misinterpreted the situation." He muttered embarrassed and we both got into the car.

I wanted to tell him that he didn't misinterpret anything. I wanted to tell him that I was head over heels for him, and I wanted to tell him that I wanted him to kiss me over and over again. But I didn't. I let the silence permeate the car due to my own fear of vulnerability.

I stewed in my cowardice the whole way back to the apartment building. When we parked, he turned the car off and looked at me.

"Okay, we're gonna have to start over Sam, because this is really weird."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I agree."

He extended his hand out to shake my own.

"Hi, I'm Freddie."

I smirked and took his hand and shook it firmly. "You're retarded, Freddie."

He laughed. "There's my girl."

I tried to suppress the feelings that overcame me when he referred to me as his girl. I knew that he was referring to the fact that I had just insulted him, and that's what he was used to, but my brain couldn't stop the double meaning.

I huffed and dropped his hand, a gesture that he probably took as me not wanting to touch him at all, when it was just the opposite.

No wonder he loved Carly. She was so simple, so sweet, so… NOT fucked up.

"Okay, Freddie, I'm gonna go get some more rest… do you think your mom has any more of those pain pills for me?"

He tapped his chin in false contemplation. "Hmm… maybe… but for a price…"

I huffed again, and started getting out of the car. "What do you want, Freddie?"

We started walking into the building. "That's easy, Puckett. You're making dinner again."

I smiled. I knew he liked my cooking. If there was something that I did well, it was cook. Momma knows her way with meat. Heh. Meat. I internally chuckled at my perverted joke.

"Yeah, okay. I can probably fix something. Let me get into Carly's and I will be over in a bit." I said and the elevator door opened for us.

He gestured for me to go first and I frowned at his gentlemanly behavior. Did he have to be so nice all the time? Why couldn't he just be an asshole so I could stop looking at him like this?

I was getting pretty pissed at myself for unearthing my crush on Freddie. I thought I had this thing pretty fucking buried. I looked over at him and he was watching the numbers lighting up as we passed each floor. I used the opportunity to try to find a physical flaw in him that I could focus on to get over. I did this often in the beginning of the crush. Back then, he was a little guy, not much bigger than me. Scrawny, with little chicken legs and a terrible bowl cut that his mother made him maintain.

I really hadn't taken stock of Freddie's appearance in a long time. It was probably a good thing. Now, there were no remnants of the prepubescent Freddie that I remembered. He was tall now, a good 6 inches taller than me. He was still lean, but he had filled out. The smooth bicep muscles peeked out from his snug t-shirt. I could see the outline of his chest, and it reminded me of when I'd seen him shirtless earlier. I swallowed thickly. I looked up and noticed how defined his jaw line was. He'd lost the round baby face he used to have and it was instead replaced with masculine angular features and, lord help me, the faintest 5 o'clock shadow. His hair was dark brown and appeared to lack a style in general; it was just messy, as if… I gulped. Yep, he had fucking sex hair. Hair that was begging to be pulled. Okay, so assessing Freddie's appearance had been a bad idea. It did nothing but perpetuate this new, old crush. Damn it.

The elevator dinged and I nearly sprinted out of it, rushing to Carly's. I threw open the door and shouted over to Freddie that I'd be over later. I slammed the door and rushed to her room. I needed to get over this. I needed to regain the old Sam that could bury these feelings. I realized that the only reason I had gotten away with this in the beginning was because Freddie had Carly to distract him from my bizarre behavior.

I needed Carly. While she had no idea that I felt this way about Freddie, she did remind me why I wasn't good for him, and she always managed to help me bury the feelings. Not directly of course, but talking to her, and her uncomplicated existence always reminded me that she was better for him than me.

I grabbed the house phone and quickly dialed her cell number.

She answered on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey Carls" I said.

"Oh, thank god. I was so worried about you all day." I could hear the relief in her voice. I was so happy to have such a good friend.

"Aww, no worries, I'm fine. There was a bit of a scare today at Lou's but crisis averted." I continued telling her about my day, carefully editing the conversation between Freddie and me. She told me all about Spencer and his band being signed and the negotiations that were going on, when they were going on tour, where they were going, the music they were recording, and all about what she was seeing in L.A.

"Sounds like you're having a blast Carly. I'm so happy for you!" I said enthusiastically.

"I am, but I'm so sorry that you're having such a hard time and I can't be there. I'm sorry you're stuck with Freddie." She laughed.

"He's not so bad." I replied quietly.

"What? Samantha Puckett, you are finally seeing Freddie for the nice, sweet guy he is, huh?" She teased.

"Hey, Hey. I didn't say he was nice or sweet. I just said he wasn't so bad." I said defensively, and a little harsher than I'd intended.

"Whoa, Whoa. Okay. I didn't mean anything by it." We both stayed silent for a minute. I started to panic, thinking that I'd given something away. If anyone would know, it'd be Carly.

"Sam?" She asked.

"Yeah?"

"I… do you…"

I held my breath, praying that she wouldn't ask me anything about Freddie.

"Never mind. It's stupid. Okay, Spencer and I were about to head out and get some dinner. I'll call you later…you staying at my house tonight?"

I let out my breath in giant relief and answered easily. "Yeah, I am. I was gonna go get dinner too. I told Freddie I'd cook for us."

I immediately regretted how that sounded.

"I mean, he told me he would give me some of his mom's pain pills, but only if I cooked, so you know, a girl's gotta eat and I needed the pain pills, so I…"

Carly giggled. "Geez Sam, it's fine. God, you're acting like you got a crush on the boy." She laughed heartily at that.

I forced a laugh out as well. "God, no. I mean, it's Freddie for Christ sakes." I said completely unconvincingly.

Her laughter trailed off. "Right. It's just Freddie." She said suspiciously.

"Okay, I'll talk to you later."

"Oookay… Bye Sam."

"Bye."

Yeah. She knew.

Fuck.

It wasn't the worst thing in the world. So, my best friend knew that I had a crush on Freddie. She wouldn't do anything about it. If anything, she was probably excited thinking that maybe someone else could get Freddie to get over her romantically. Yeah, like that was ever gonna happen.

I decided I didn't want to dwell on it anymore. I'd had a shitty day. My mother was still looking for me, my best friend was far away, and my hidden unrequited crush was now in my face every second. I really wanted a drink, but I doubted Freddie would be up for that. He didn't seem the type to condone underage drinking.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. Okay, what were my options here? I could go over there and do my best to ignore, insult and antagonize Freddie, just like old times. I could go over there and confess my feelings for him… psh, okay that wasn't even in the realm of a possibility. Maybe I could just go easy on him. Lessen up on the insults, ask him questions, be his friend. We'd never really gotten to know each other, and I will be the first to admit that I was curious to know more about his life. Maybe read some of what he's written. I know he wrote about Carly a lot, I wonder if he's ever written anything about me.

I went to the bathroom and as I was washing my hands I looked at my reflection. The black eye was feeling better but looking worse. Though the swelling was almost completely gone, the color was darker and splotchier than it was yesterday. My lip was looking remarkably better unless I flipped it to look on the inside. I dug around Carly's makeup box for some cover-up and dabbed a bit on around my eye. It looked a million times better. Since it made my eye look that much better, I put a bit on the rest of my face to smooth out the other bruises and imperfections. I figured if that helped, then I could put some mascara to make my eyes look more normal and a bit of blush on my cheeks too. I dabbed on some lip balm… to help with the healing. Yeah, that's it. Wow, I can validate the shit out of anything.

I started brushing my hair out and realized that I was full on primping for him. I swallowed my pride and broke out the curling iron, creating the nice waves that I loved. Since I'd gone this far, I decided to raid Carly's wardrobe as well. I started rifling through drawers and found a small collection of my own clothes in a drawer in Carly's room. I smiled at the fact that Carly had a drawer for me. I grimaced as I realized that the only bra I had here was the super deluxe mega push up one that I wore once and it was so disgustingly uncomfortable that I took it off and pitched it across the room. Well, something is better than nothing. I found a cute top that Carly gave to me because, "it draws too much attention to my boobs." Yeah. Such problems. And I found my favorite pair of jeans that I had been looking for forever.

I put it all on and caught my reflection in the full length mirror. I looked… good. I was insecure when I realized that Freddie was going to pick up on the fact that I was dressing up for him, but dismissed the fact when I remembered that he just didn't see me that way. At all.

I pulled myself together and walked across the hall to Freddie's door. I fiddled for a minute because I didn't know if I should knock, or just let myself in. I mean, I had a key, but I think the key was given to me in case no one was home and I needed to get in. Before I could contemplate it anymore, the door opened and Freddie nearly crashed into me.

"Oh!" He said, surprised. "I was just coming to get you!"

He took a step back in the apartment and gestured that I should come in. I think I may have been so desperate for it that I imagined it, but I could have sworn that he gave me the up and down, and paused just a millisecond to long staring at my cleavage. Yeah, it was wishful thinking.

He cleared his throat. "So what do you want for dinner? I mean, I know we just ate, but…"

"I gotta see what you got to work with first." I said and made my way to the kitchen.

I found chicken, ham, cheese and breadcrumbs and set to work making Chicken Cordon Bleu. It would take a few hours to prep and cook and we could just chill in the meantime.

Instead of insulting Freddie and kicking him out of the kitchen when he asked what he could do to help, I instructed him on how to cut up the ham and cheese slices to be placed inside the chicken. I made up a salad and placed in the fridge. We stood in the kitchen working side by side in comfortable silence. It was very domestic, and very… well… weird.

His mother came out while we were cooking to get ready for work and the three of us made easy conversation in the kitchen. Freddie got really tense when his mother mentioned his father. I mentally filed away that piece of information and set to ask him about his dad later.

His mother made coffee and I took a cup.

"You drink coffee Samantha?" She asked admonishingly.

I smiled. "Yep. Have been since I was 12."

She shook her head, and I looked over at Freddie who was smirking at me.

"Don't you want to tell her it will stunt her growth, or educate her on all the negative effects of caffeine, ma?" He teased.

"It's not my job to tell her that. I save those lectures for you, Freddie Darling." She said and pinched his cheeks.

He rolled his eyes and looked over at me. "I used to drink coffee, back in my Keroac days. But then I had to hear about how I was going to end up being four foot eleven for the rest of my life, every time I had a cup. It just wasn't worth it anymore." He laughed.

I nodded, perfectly able to picture Ms. Benson saying that.

"Well, you're not four foot eleven, are you?" She asked him.

"No, but I think genetics may have more to do with that than the lack of caffeine." He rolled his eyes again.

"You don't know that. It also speeds up your metabolism, and you didn't need to get thinner! I think you've filled out quite nicely. You're such a handsome young man! Don't you think so Sam?" She looked over at me and waited for me to say something.

I choked a little on my coffee and managed to nod or give some sort of positive response. Ms. Benson smiled a knowing smile and then excused herself to get ready for work. I continued to look at my coffee cup, as I really wasn't looking forward to the inevitable teasing that was about to begin.

But it never came. When I looked up, Freddie was smiling at me. Like, really smiling.

I put my cup down and finished the prep for dinner while Freddie just watched me dance around the kitchen. Ms. Benson yelled her goodbye as I was putting the chicken into the oven. We went to sit in the living room. Instead of turning on the TV like I expected him to do, he broke out Scattegories. I started laughing.

"Seriously, Benson? We're gonna play scattegories? The game that gives you a letter and you think of words that go with that letter? You're a fucking WRITER! Like you won't own my ass in 3.5 seconds. Can't we play something where I actually have a chance to win?" I whined.

He chuckled. "Okay, Puckett, what do you suggest?"

I nearly blurted out, "TWISTER" as an excuse to touch him, but the more rational part of my brain reigned it in. "Umm… how about something that doesn't require a vocabulary that rivals the verbal portion of the SATs… like Monopoly."

He balked. "No way! You are a tyrant! No mercy! Last time you made me write an I.O.U for my kidney because I landed on Park Place!"

I laughed. "Okay, Okay, neutral ground. What about Trivial Pursuit? My knowledge of random useless facts comes in handy there."

He smiled. "Okay, done deal." He turned around to get the game and I stared at his ass. Yep, it was nice too.

He turned around and caught me blatantly staring. I could feel my face burning. He narrow his eyes in suspicion and I thought for a minute that he was going to call me out on it, but he simply shook his head and plopped the game on the table.

"I'm Blue." He said, and pulled out his pieces, placing them on the game board, and taking a seat on the floor next to the coffee table.

I cleared my throat. "Yellow." I claimed my piece and sat down on the floor opposite him and we eased into the game, laughing at all the random answers that Freddie and I knew. It was my turn, and I leaned my elbows on the table and leaned forward, racking my brain, thinking about how many rings the Michelin man had on his arm, and I looked over at Freddie. This time it was not my imagination, he was absolutely staring at my tits. I didn't blame him, they did look good. I looked away from him but kept him in my peripheral, watching him watch me. I wanted to call him out on it. I wanted to tease him, but then I remembered the fact that he didn't call me out when I got caught staring at his ass. I should just be thankful that he was paying attention to me at all. Enough time had passed so that I should either give and answer or concede and say I didn't know, but apparently he was sufficiently distracted. I shifted my posture so that more of the cleavage in question was on display. I watched him swallow roughly and lick his lips and I was thrilled to be able to get that kind of reaction out of him. I felt so emboldened by his attention, but before I could do anything else, the buzzer was going off, indicating our dinner was done.

I jumped up, expecting Freddie to follow, but he didn't. I looked behind me to see him rubbing his face furiously and running his hands through his hair. Huh. I was affecting the poor boy. I wondered if Freddie was all that different that any of the other guys I was into. He was unavailable. He was with someone else, even if he wasn't ACTUALLY with her. But it was clear that he found me attractive. I wondered if I would be able to have him on my traditional terms. I could be his sneaky little secret… I didn't really want him that way, but I was kinda willing to take him any way I could. I knew men. They didn't turn me down in that capacity anyway.

I decided then and there that I was going to sleep with Freddie. I could at least have him that way, and maybe he'd get out of my system. I took the chicken out of the oven and placed it on the stove.

I walked back into the living room and blurted out, "I think we should sleep together."


	10. Say What Now?

OFFICIALLY BETA'D

A/N I'm also really into Twilight fanfiction, Wide Awake was what actually got me into fanfiction to begin with, so if you're into Twilight fic, Wide Awake by Angstgoddes003 is AMAZING. I'm actually borrowing her term, "hormonal teenage motherfucker".

Check out my new banner made by my beta on my profile page. I love it so much. And of course, please review if you like what you read :P

Disclaimer: I own a pretty pink laptop case, but not iCarly.

Chapter 10

FPOV

Say what now?

Did she just say what I think I heard? I think she did.

She was going to kill me. First she brings up the kiss at the diner, and talks about it like she wanted to do it again. I was ready to kiss her, when her mother walked through the door. I kept my head down so that she wouldn't see me and watched Lou threaten her within an inch of her life. After she left, I got up to talk to Lou.

"How often does that happen?" I asked him.

"Often enough." He replied gruffly.

I rubbed my face.

"So what's your deal, kid?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" I retorted.

"Every time you're here, you're drooling over the brunette and flirting with the blonde. How does that work, exactly?" He said teasingly.

I was shocked. "Flirt with Sam?"

He let out a big laugh. "Yeah, kid. I been around the block enough times to know flirting when I see it. You two got it bad for each other." He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in existence.

"Huh." I said, frowning.

"Did I just tell you something you hadn't figured out yet?" He said, still chuckling.

"I think you might have." I said, sitting back down in the booth and re-evaluating Sam and I.

"Well, let me fill you in on somethin' else, kid. That girl-" and he pointed to the bathroom where Sam was hiding. "is one of a kind. She's something special."  
I smiled and nodded in agreement.

"And also-" he cracked his knuckles, "if you break her heart, I will break your fucking neck."

I swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Enjoy your lunch." He added lightly and patted me much too hard on the back, just as Sam emerged from the bathroom.

I was crushed when she said the kiss was in the past and not worth talking about. I desperately wanted to go back to before I realized I had it bad for her, but it was too late now. I only saw her as the girl I wanted to hold. The girl I wanted to kiss, the girl I wanted to… right.

She was taking forever to get changed and I grew anxious to see her. For fuck's sake, it was an hour and I was already aching to see her again? What the hell is wrong with me? My paranoia got the best of me and I wondered if she was hurt or something so I went to check her. As I walked out the door, I nearly ran into her, and when I took a step back to let her in, I took in her appearance. And, DAMN. She must have put on makeup because her black eye was hardly noticeable. She'd done her hair so that it fell in loose waves down her back, but what she was wearing… phew… what she was wearing nearly knocked me out. She was wearing tight jeans that showed off her sweet little curves and a low cut yellow top that displayed the most delicious cleavage that I'd ever seen. She walked in quickly and I adjusted my hard on, praying that she wouldn't notice. Where was this "oddly respectful" guy she praised me as last night?

I helped her cook, and had to constantly push down the urge to stand behind her, brush her hair off her neck and kiss the soft skin there, to put my hands on her hips and push myself into her. I cut up the ham and cheese slices while I pictured my hands sliding up her waist and cupping those perfect breasts in my hands.

Seriously, when did this teenage hormonal motherfucker begin to take over my mind?

My mom came out and we all chatted about nothing in particular, how crappy the movie was, lunch at the diner (with Jolene left out of the narrative), but then Mom had to mention me going to dad's this weekend. I think she mentioned it so I could invite Sam to meet him. He'd never met her or Carly, and my mom was always pushing me to get him more involved with my life. I had less than no desire to do so.

Sam filled a cup of coffee and my mom gave her a degrading remark about it, but not her usual spiel about it. I smirked, ready to tease her.

"Don't you want to tell her it will stunt her growth, or educate her on all the negative effects of caffeine, ma?"

"It's not my job to tell her that. I save those lectures for you, Freddie Darling." I winced at the horrific pet name and rolled my eyes.

My mom and I bantered back and forth about the negative effects of caffeine and genetics, when all of a sudden my mom asked Sam if she thought I was handsome. I was incredibly interested in the answer

She choked on her drink and muttered, "I guess, I... yeah…" and she nodded, turning beat red. I beamed. Normal Sam would have insulted me. Even normal Sam who was being polite for my mother's sake would have given a sarcastic answer. But she couldn't hide it anymore than I could.

She looked up at me and I just smiled wider, my ego bursting through the roof at the idea that Sam thought I was cute.

I watched her move nervously through the kitchen. She really was pretty. More than pretty, she was beautiful. She was sexy. I went back to the image of standing behind her, kissing her neck and hearing that moan again, or maybe even hearing my name cross her lips as she pushed her ass back into me.

I shook the perverted thoughts from my head and decided that TV was a bad idea. I needed something more engaging than that. TV would allow my head to wonder too much. Board games seemed safe, and they were, until she leaned forward on the coffee table and allowed me to see more of her tits. They really were perfect. Creamy white and perky, I blatantly stared. I knew I shouldn't have, but I think I earned the right after I caught Sam staring at my ass. I knew I could have called her out on it, but I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. Plus, it was damn flattering.

So, I stared at her chest and she pretended not to notice. But when she shifted so that I could see more, I really felt like she just gave me the okay that it was fine to look. I licked my lips imagining what she tasted like, picturing her nipples, what they would feel like beneath my hands, and in my mouth. She looked like she was about to say something, but the kitchen timer went off before she could. She got up to get dinner out of the oven, and I wanted to go help her, but my raging erection was not going to allow me to stand up without being exposed. I rubbed my face trying to erase the image of her cleavage from my mind so that I could act normally around her, but it was too late. I wanted her. I wasn't going to be able to ever look at her the same again. I was trying to get her breasts out of my head, at least temporarily, when she came out of the kitchen.

"I think we should sleep together."

I choked. I choked on nothing. Whether I forgot to breath or simply choked on my own saliva, I still choked. Sam smirked a little, I think loving the fact that she caught me so off guard.

"Uhhhh… well… ummm… what?" I stammered.

She huffed. "Look, it's obvious that you think I'm attractive. I mean, I realize I'm no Carly, but there's just some sort of THING here that's making it weird, and I'm thinking that it's just sexual tension. I tend to put it off naturally, and you obviously have some sort of damsel in distress syndrome when it comes to me, so I think we should just fuck and get it over with."

Unbidden images of her naked beneath me flooded my brain. I imagined her whimpering my name while she held onto me; I imagined her grasping her own breasts while she rode me from above, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Well?" She asked, her eyebrows raised. She looked so vulnerable in this moment. I narrowed my eyes at her. Why was she asking me this? Did she feel I just wanted to fuck her? Didn't she know that she was one of my best friends and that it would be so much more than fucking? Was she so insecure that she felt she deserved nothing more than a cheap fuck?

"You think I just want to fuck you?" I asked.

She looked taken aback. "Well… yeah. Don't you?" She asked, looking near tears.

"No. I mean yes. But not…" I said, trying to explain that I didn't just simply want to fuck her. I wanted so much more than that.

She closed her eyes and looked utterly rejected. "It's fine. I'm so sorry I brought it up."

She went to bolt for the front door, when I caught her by the arm.

"Sam, wait." I pulled her arm so she was right in front of me and crushed my lips to hers. My hands were dying to cup her ass, but the gentlemen in me, or it could have been the scared little boy in me, wrapped my arms around her waist. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she responded to my kiss. It was like the first kiss all over again. Passionate, deep, but this time there was no hidden agenda. She wanted to kiss me. There was no Tim here to disprove a gay rumor. She opened her mouth and I pushed my tongue into it where it found hers. She moaned and it took everything in my power not to throw her on the couch and fuck her right then.

Her hands combed through my hair and tugged gently, making me moan. My hands trailed down and finally cupped her ass. I gave her a good squeeze, and it was firm and perfect, and it made her whimper a bit into my mouth. I knew I needed to stop or else I would be ripping off her clothes, and from the way she was pressed to my body, I don't think she would have objected.

My hands reluctantly moved off of her ass and I placed them on her hips, trying to gently pry my body off of hers. My lips were much more reluctant to stop kissing her. I lessened the intensity of the kiss and trailed them off to simple pecks on her lips. Her arms loosened around my neck and I kissed her forehead. We stood there, foreheads touching, with my hands on her hips and her arms around my neck as we panted, allowing our breathing to return to normal.

"Ummm… that was…" she stammered.

"Perfect." I murmured dreamily.

I smiled lazily and watch her tongue the inside of her lip and then wince in pain.

"Oh jeez, Sam, I'm so sorry!" I didn't even think about her busted lip until just now. That rough kissing had to have hurt.

She smiled. "It was totally worth it."

She released her arms from around my neck and began pulling me toward my bedroom.

"Sam, wait." I said. She stopped in her track and huffed.

"Really Benson?" She said sarcastically.

I laughed a little at her impatience. "Sam, can we just talk for a second?"

She huffed again and plopped on the couch, her breasts bouncing a little bit as she sat. In fact, I found myself being able to pretty much track what her breasts were doing at all times. This was so weird.

"Ok, Freddie, so it's clear that I'm the man of this relation… this thing we got going on here. Which makes you the chick. So, whatever sissy feelings crap that you want to talk about, let's get it over with." She stated gruffly.

I smirked. "Geez Sam, you make it seem like I'm going to torture you. I just want to know a couple things."

When a moment ago the atmosphere was thick with lust and desire, now it was awkward and tense. We both needed some clarification, or at least I did, anyway.

It was clear that Sam wasn't going to start sorting this out, so I took a breath and started.

"Okay, so I gotta ask. Do you even like me?" I cringed when I thought about how much it sounded like those notes you pass in second grade; do you like me? Check yes or no.

She refused to look at me. "What's there to like?" She muttered.

I sighed and rubbed my face. We were never going to get anywhere if she kept shutting down like this.

She started again, "Sorry, defense mechanism. This is really hard for me."

I nodded as she chewed on her lip, and then winced in pain. She twirled a curl in her finger nervously. I realized that I may have been the first to speak, but I was still putting all the pressure on her to go first. I could be the one to put my emotions on the line. And she just looked so damn cute and vulnerable.

"Sam, I think you're beautiful. I think you're smart, fun, and you're the only girl who can keep up with my wit. I like you. I like you a lot."

There. It was out there. It was freeing and terrifying at the same time.

I don't know what I expected to see when I looked at her, but I didn't expect the look of pure joy on her face. I don't think I'd ever seen her look this happy before.

"Yeah, you're all right, Freddie." She said smiling.

Okay, so it was no emotional speech, but from Sam, that was as close to a heart wrenching confession as I was probably going to get.

"So, now what?" She asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you like me, and I like you… so now what?" She was fidgeting again, looking cute and vulnerable again.

I smirked, amazed that I even had the ability to make Sam nervous like this.

"I don't know. I guess we're, like, a couple?" I said, trying it out in my head, and really happy at how right it seemed.

She nodded, "Okay, so I'm like, your girlfriend?" She asked, unsure.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" I tilted my head, trying to get her to make eye contact with me. She wouldn't, her eyes were still all over the room and she was still twirling her hair.

"I guess so. I mean, you do desperately need a girlfrie-, I'm sorry, I'm doing it again. Damn it! This is hard!" She shouted.

I laughed. "Sam, I don't want you to change." I shrugged. "You insult me, I insult you… it's been this way for years… it's our…" I trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

"Foreplay." Sam whispered.

I cleared my throat, uncomfortable that the topic of sex was brought up again. Where I was completely comfortable talking about my feelings, talking about sex was not on my comfort level.

She giggled, "Now I see what makes you uncomfortable."

"Ha ha. Hilarious. Can we stay on topic please?" I stated, a little annoyed.

She smirked and gave me a mock salute. "Yes, sir!" she responded sarcastically.

"Okay, so let me get this straight. You like me. I like you. We're together. As boyfriend and girlfriend." I listed, counting off the facts with my fingers.

"Oh, I'm sorry, should I be taking notes?" She looked around sarcastically for a pen and paper.

"Smartass." I smiled at her.

"You like it."

"I really do."

She smiled at me.

"Well, it's official. We have officially landed in an alternative universe where you and I, not only get along… sort of… but now make out. Awesome." She laughed.

"I agree. Do you know how many people are gonna freak out?" I asked, laughing.

She stopped laughing immediately. "What do you mean?"

"I just mean that no one is going to believe the two of us together! I mean, a week ago, would YOU have thought this possible?"

Her face blushed a deep red, and she muttered a horribly unbelievable "No."

My jaw dropped. Sam had envisioned us together before. Was I misinterpreting this? Did Sam have a crush on me and I was just unaware, or so stupid that I didn't see her abuse as flirting? Was Lou right this whole time?

Huh.

"What?" She asked.

Not wanting to further embarrass her, I let the conversation drop, for now. I just shook my head and smiled at her.

"So… can I make out with my boyfriend now?" She asked seductively, looking up at me from underneath her eyelashes.

I wanted to. God did I want to. But I felt like I needed to talk to her about boundaries. I wanted to take things slow.

And before you start praising me for my good morals, let me tell you the real reason I wanted to take it slow.

I have no idea what I'm doing, and Sam has been with enough guys that she has some reasonable expectations that I will in no way be able to meet. I need to go slow so that I can at least build up my arsenal of knowledge. It's like… I don't want to just go straight to the World Series. I want to play the games all season so that when the World Series is upon me, I have some basic knowledge and skill to draw from. Catch my drift?

"Sam, I feel like I need to talk to you about that."

"About making out?" She asked, confused.

"Sort of." I was so uncomfortable talking about this. I was so embarrassed that I had no experience, that I had no idea what I was doing.

She sat on the couch, waiting very patiently for me to continue.

"So, you know I've never…" I was waving my hands wildly; "done it…"  
She pursed her lips to hold back a laugh, which was NOT helping me.

"Not helping Sam." I admonished.

She smiled, "Freddie, I know you've never "DONE IT"" She put the done it in big air quotes for me. Great.

"But you know that's not a BAD thing, right? I mean, I feel just as insecure about the fact that I have "done it". It's the whole double standard in society thing." She said, rolling her eyes.

"You know I don't care, right?" I asked her.

"Yeah, I know, but then you should know that I don't care about your history either, or lack thereof." She smiled and stuck out her tongue.

"I just feel like, we should take it slow…" I said, looking to her for a reaction.

"Slow… well that will be new for me. But I understand. I think it would be really nice to take it slow for once. But so you know, you're going to have to be the one to set limits. I get a little… carried away…" She smirked at me.

I inhaled quickly, trying to wash the images of her being aggressive with me out of my head. I didn't really want to get them out. But she hopped up off the couch (her breasts bounced up with her, FYI) and she kissed me on the cheek.

"I'm going to go sleep at Carly's tonight. Don't be creepy and sneak in on me like last night." She pointed her finger at me.

"Okay, okay, geez, excuse me for wanting to give you a pain pill!" I exclaimed.

I walked her to the door and she leaned against it (pushing her delicious cleavage out) and she looked up at me again from under her lashes. It was a delectable combination that made it impossible not to kiss her.

I let my hand carefully trace her cheek and touch her lips, and allowed the anticipation to build. I leaned in to kiss her and touched her lips to mine sweetly, and softly. She was careful not to let the lust take over. But it was there. It was right on the edge and had I kissed her for another four seconds, her leg would have been hitched over my hip. But as far as ranking kisses go, (ya know, all three of them) this was my favorite one. Because it meant something. This wasn't pity, nor was it a kiss to validation my feelings for Sam. I was kissing her because… she was mine to kiss.


	11. Taking what I can get

OFFICIALLY BETA'D

A/N Thanks for sticking with my little story. I love that I'm able to give some people their Seddie fix.

Go check out my banner made by Emma on my profile page. So good.

Disclaimer: I own a kindle with all the Southern Vampire books on it, but not iCarly….

Chapter 11

Taking what I can get

SPOV

The night we declared ourselves, I never slept so soundly in my life. Well, I did wake up at 2am to eat, because in the middle of confessing our feelings for each other, we had left the chicken to on the stove, and I went back to Carly's without eating. Crazy. The boy made me forget a meal. That fact alone should indicate how much he affected me.

The next day I lounged at Carly's house, nervous to go over to Freddie's. I had no idea how to be a girlfriend. What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to get dressed up and bring him cookies? I remembered that's what Carly did when she was with her boyfriend of 2 weeks, Patrick.

I really wished that I could call her and ask what I should do, but there was still the matter of Carly left for me to deal with. Freddie said he wanted to be my boyfriend, but we really hadn't talked at all about the other huge part of our lives, Carly. I remembered back to when she'd heard that I had kissed him. There was a very jealous undertone to her inquisition. At the time, I just denied the accusation and she blew it off, deciding that it was an impossibility.

I never questioned her, but it always felt like Carly had an "I don't want to date him, but I don't want anyone else to either" attitude. Freddie never dated anyone else, so I never had a chance to test the theory.

So, anyway, I had no idea if Freddie wanted to be the one to tell Carly or if I should do it. I needed to talk to him about it. I was incredibly uncomfortable about the whole "telling people" thing. I mean, we pretty much kept to ourselves and high school was over, so it wasn't like there was an exorbitant amount of people to tell in the first place, but still. Sigh. So many people were going to look at him and go, "Really, her?" I could already see the looks of disbelief on their faces. They'd probably be waiting for the punch line.

I brushed my teeth and washed my face, impressed that my eye looked much better. A little cover up and I looked back to normal. Which was good, I had a shift today.

I was lounging on the couch watching old episodes of Dawson's Creek when I heard the key enter the lock. Freddie came in and looked surprised to see me.

"Hey you! I figured since I didn't see you for breakfast that you were at work." He said.

"Nah, I have the dinner shift." I said and turned my attention back to Pacey and Joey.

"Sick of me already?" He smirked and plopped onto the couch.

"No, I just…" I stammered, already uncomfortable talking about this girlfriend/boyfriend thing.

"I have no idea how to do this girlfriend thing!" I said exasperatedly.

"Sam, nothing is different." He said.

I crossed my arms, my eyebrows raised and I and looked him disbelievingly.

He laughed, "Okay, it's a little different."

"I just don't know how you're supposed to act as a girlfriend." I muttered. "I'm no good at this shit."

"Sam! You don't act any different! You want to know the only difference between the Sam that's my friend and the Sam that's my girlfriend?" He asked.

Before I could respond, he leaned over, and tilted my face in his hand.

"This."

He kissed me softly and way too brief. My eyelids fluttered closed and I kissed him again. I uncrossed my arms and pulled him around the neck so that he was closer to me. This part of being a girlfriend I could handle.

I leaned back on the couch and pulled him with me so that he was on top of me. His hands held onto the swell of my hips gently, and he was careful to keep his lower half far away from me. I kissed him again and threaded my hand through his hair. I opened my mouth and darted my tongue out to taste his lips. He touched his tongue to mine and I moaned. The moan seemed to set him off. I made a mental note to do it more often. His hands tightened on my hips and he got infinitesimally closer. His kisses were intensified and our tongues battled for dominance. He pulled away and continued kissing my chin and then down my neck, giving me little licks and nips along the column, making me shudder. "Oh, Freddie… that feels… aahhhh…" I whispered.

All of a sudden, he stopped. I thought I might have said or done something wrong when he pulled away and looked me in the eyes. "I… you… I have to stop…" He said, completely out of breath.

I tightened my arms around him, "I don't want you to stop."

He closed his eyes, "That's not helping me, Samantha."

Again, with the Samantha thing. I normally hated, no that's not a strong enough word, I **abhorred** being called Samantha. It was girly, feminine, delicate. All the things I'm not. But hearing Freddie call me Samantha the other day had suddenly made my body react differently. Like it was reacting now. I wanted to kiss him again.

I sat up and kissed him lightly on the lips then traced my lips over his jaw and nibbled on his earlobe softly. He shivered and I smiled at the fact that *I* was causing him to react this way. I placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and pulled away, not wanting to push him if he didn't want to be pushed.

He sat with his eyes closed for a few moments, calming his breathing, and I shifted nervously, wondering what I should be doing. I only knew the making out part of being a girlfriend.

He finally opened his eyes at smiled at me nervously. "Sorry, I just… needed a minute."

"No worries." I said, brushing it away with my hand. "What are you doing here anyway? If you thought I was working…"

He hopped off the couch. "Oh yeah, Carly called this morning and asked me to find one of her memory cards. I guess there's some picture of Spencer's band that she wants me to email her so she can show it to some Art Executives down there."

He headed to Carly's room and I got up to follow.

"Yeah" I started, "Speaking of Carly…" I paused while he looked through her case of clearly marked memory cards. Damn that girl was organized.

"Did you tell her anything…" I trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

He looked up and cleared his throat while running his hand through his hair. "Umm… no, I didn't… should I have?" He asked.

"I don't know. No, I don't think so. I mean, it's not like YOU should have, but, I mean, we should probably… one of us should tell her something… I don't know…" I was stammering.

This was so humiliating. I was basically asking him to declare himself for me all over again, but this time to the love of his life. _Yeah, so not going to happen._

"Yeah." He said, stunning me.

When I looked up he was wearing a blank mask on his face. I couldn't read any sort of emotion at all.

"Yeah, you're right, she should know. You should tell her." He said again, nodding his head.

"Okay…" I said, trying to figure out how I was going to do that.

He was still looking at me, "What are you going to tell her?"

I paused, trying to choose my words carefully.

"I'm going to tell her that you and I are more now."

He laughed. "More? Even *I* don't know what that means and I'm in it!"

I grimaced. He was going to make ME declare MYSELF again. I huffed in annoyance. I hated feeling this vulnerable.

"I'll start with that and then when she asks what it means; I guess I'll tell her." I said, annoyed.

"What does it mean, Sam?" He asked with a smirk.

I gave him a look that shot daggers, and he held up his hands in surrender.

"Hey, I'm just trying to prepare you!" He laughed.

I huffed again. "I'll tell Carly. Later. Not now." I said and walked out of the room, ready to be done with the conversation.

I stormed into the kitchen and fixed a snack. I walked into the living room and found that he was sitting on the couch, and was immersed in the show.

"I always knew you had a penchant for Dawson's Creek." I said and he blushed and went to get up, then seemed to change his mind and held out his hand to me. I took it and he pulled me onto his lap, kissing me senseless.

"You know, I will never admit it to anyone else, but I totally dig this show. It's the Pacey and Joey thing. Doesn't it remind you of anyone?" He smiled, and then tucked me into his side, in a way that both of us could watch the show but still be close.

Wait, this was totally what snuggling was, wasn't it? Gag me. I, Samantha Puckett was snuggling. And loving every fucking second of it.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of snuggling and shifts at the diner and sweet kisses and sleep and more snuggling. It seemed I was quite fond of it. Who knew? Freddie was more than willing to comply with my snuggling wants and needs. It was some sort of unspoken rule that we didn't touch in front of his mother. I don't know if my reluctance to tell Carly made Freddie think that I didn't want anyone to know, or if it was his own fear that kept us a secret, but either way, we made no indication to her that our relationship had changed in any way. But it had. Oh my, it had.

Because the kissing. Oh my god. The kissing. It was so much better than any kissing I'd ever had in my whole life. And I wanted more. My god, did I want more. But he was always so hesitant. Always holding back. Never letting himself go. Always stopping me… or stopping himself. I know it'd only been a week, but I felt like I was going to burst if we didn't start moving past the kissing.

And I knew why he was hesitant. I was so pissed at myself because I was the reason he was so damn hesitant. When Freddie asked me about my romantic history with boys at the diner, I had told him the truth, but I'm pretty sure he formulated his own assumptions. I was so mortified that I'd told him about my first time. I hadn't even told Carly that story. I was so ready for the conversation to be over that I'm pretty sure he thinks that I've slept with most of the guys from our high school. He couldn't be more wrong, but I felt silly bringing it up. I mean, how would I even start that conversation? _"Hey remember when I told you that I had sex with Tim, and then you probably assumed that I had sex with a ton of other people? Yeah, that's totally not true."_

The thing was, before Tim, boys would pay me some attention, tell me I was pretty, tell me they wished their girlfriends were as cool as me, tell me that they wished they were with someone that they could have fun hanging out with, and then the next thing I knew I was kissing them. It never went beyond that until Tim.

I shuddered when I thought about it. Tim had told me to stop by his party that night. I wouldn't have, except that my mom was having a raging party at our house, and if there is anything worse than drunk, horny teenagers, it's drunk, horny adults. So I bailed and headed down to his house. When I got there, he was alone, and very drunk. The music was still pretty loud and I noticed him stumbling around.

"Hey! PUCKETT! You showed up!" He slurred.

"Yeah, where is everyone?" I asked, looking around at the dirty garage and seeing empty cans and cups everywhere.

"Fucking gone, man. Emily just flipped out on me and then everyone just fucking left." He said, swaying a bit as he flailed his arms as he spoke, spilling some of the vodka out of the bottle he was holding.

"Ah. Girl troubles." I said, and grabbed the bottle from his fist and took a swig. It burned. So I took another. And one more.

"FUCK them BITCHES!" He said loudly before turning to me. "No, offense, Puckett."

I snorted and took another swig.

"But you're not much of a girl anyway." He said.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I said.

"Well… look at you! You're fucking… taking straight shots of vodka right from the bottle. That's fucking hardcore! You're not a girl… you're fucking AWESOME!" He slurred and plopped onto the pool table.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Thanks." I said, trying to at least acknowledge the backhanded compliment that was in there somewhere. And I continued to swig the vodka.

"I'm serious. You're sooooo cool. Like, you don't give a shit about what anybody says, and you don't take anybody's shit, and you know… you know… awww… I don't know. You're just AWESOME."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the vodka work its magic and listening to the shitty music that teenagers are supposed to like.

After a few minutes, I could feel the telltale signs of a good buzz; I looked over to see if Tim was passed out yet. He wasn't. He was staring at me.

"What?" I asked.

"C'mere." He said and licked his lips.

I should have said no. I should have walked home. I should have done anything but get up and walk over to that pool table.

I was sober enough to realize what I was doing, but drunk enough not to stop it. I think subconsciously, I just wanted to get it over with. I just wanted to try this sex thing out and see if it was all it was hyped up to be.

It wasn't.

After a particularly painful one minute and 37 seconds, it was over. I felt dirty. I felt used. I wanted to curl up and die.

Instead, I got dressed and left without a word. And I never spoke another word to Tim. I guess now that I look back, kissing Freddie in front of Tim was the only way I could have gotten him to leave Freddie alone without actually talking to him.

After Tim, I didn't kiss anyone else. I didn't want it to end up there again. It would have been someone else's pool table, or a backseat, or someone's garage, or in the woods somewhere. I just didn't want to feel that way ever again.

So, as I was saying, it was my fault that Freddie was so hesitant. I knew he thought I was this super experienced girl. By all accounts, I didn't correct any rumor about me, because Tim was right about one thing. I didn't give a shit what anyone else thought about me. But now, I REALLY cared what one person thought, and I had no idea how to go about fixing it.

The most frustrating aspect of this whole thing was that even though I was more experienced than he was, I still had no fucking clue what the hell I was doing. I didn't even really know what I wanted. I just knew I wanted MORE, and I had no idea how to convey this to him. I wasn't even really sure that he wanted me like that. I mean, I could assume, but he never really allowed the lust to consume him like I allowed it to consume me.

But when the lust wasn't taking over my body, we talked. We talked and talked and talked. I was fascinated by what I learned about him. I asked him what music he liked, what books he read, his views on politics and art and religion. The only topic he didn't like to be asked about was about his dad. It was like looking in a mirror the way Freddie shut down the minute his father was mentioned.

He pursed his lips. "I don't like talking about him."

And that was that. But for the most part it was so… comfortable. I really felt like I could completely let me guard down, even more than with Carly. When it was his turn to grill me on "all things Sam" he called it, his questions were much more in depth, and more superficial than my "What's your favorite color" questions. He asked me about my mom, about my job, about my childhood. And I told him everything. And he never once looked at me with "pity eyes". Though whenever I would tell him a particularly horrific story, he tended to hold me just a tad tighter. I didn't mind.

"What do you want out of life?" He asked me one night while a baseball game was on and I was dozing off.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean, what do you want to be? What do you want to do? Where do you want to go? Life… what do you want out of it?" He clarified, twirling a piece of my hair.

"I don't know, Benson, what the fuck are these questions?" I teased.

"C'mon Sam… I wanna know." He leaned down and kissed me gently. "Please tell me?" He asked softly.

_Oh, like I can resist that?_

So, I told him the truth.

"I want to not be my mother." I stated.

He looked taken aback. "Okay. That's fair… what else?"

I shook my head, "Nope, that's it. I just want to NOT be my mother." I confirmed.

He shook his head in disbelief. "Sam, you're NOTHING like your mother. At all! You could do anything in life, be anybody you want. You're not her!"

I nodded my head, agreeing with him, but not really believing him.

"You don't believe me, do you?" He asked. _Damn that boy could see right through me._

I shrugged.

"I just… I think that my life is pretty much laid out. I'm going to be stuck in this town, working some job for the rest of my life… and I'm okay with that really, I am. I know to stay away from the bottle and I won't become her." I shrugged again, like all of this was just a given. I mean, he knew I wasn't going to college, what did he think I was going to do?

He huffed and got up. I thought he was mad at me at first. "Don't you realize how amazing you are?" He said, sort of angrily.

_Oh, here we go with the "You're so awesome speech."_

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I'm amazing. Look at my remarkable ability to carry plates and my incredibly bitter wit and sarcasm."

He muttered something under his breath and sat back down, pulling me close to him. "I'm sorry that no one has ever made you feel special Sam."

My breath hitched a little as he hit the nail on the head. He was so right. No one had ever made me feel like I was special.

"You do." I whispered, half hoping he wouldn't hear me.

He smiled and kissed me again and resumed playing with my hair while I dozed on his lap.

It was the best week of my life. Hands down.

But even in my perfect week, there were still parts that I dreaded. The possibility of my mother finding me. Dealing with the dirty looks that were starting to replace the pitied looks from Freddie's mom. And then there was still the matter of Carly to attend to. It had been a week since I'd kissed Freddie and I still hadn't talked to her about it. In fact, I was avoiding talking to her at all because I was afraid of what would come out of my mouth.

Freddie was just the opposite it seemed. While he never mentioned a word to her that would indicate that him and I had something going on, he talked to Carly for what seemed like constantly. It made the insecure girl in me go crazy. I knew it was irrational. We were all best friends.

But I couldn't help but to make comparisons between us. Why on earth would he want me over Carly? The answer was obvious. Because he could have me. He couldn't have Carly. I, however, was throwing myself at him at an increasingly alarming rate.

I wanted to ask him how he felt about Carly, but I didn't want to know the answer. It would kill me, I was sure. The only thing I could do would be to take what I could get. And what I was getting was plenty.

A/N

Review if you like, review if you didn't, just….review…

I've been getting lots of PM's and reviews about my Sam. I'd love to tell you all that she's this amazingly confident girl like on the show, but unfortunately, my Sam is incredibly insecure and is constantly in need of reassurance. She doesn't like this fact, so she puts up a "tough chick" wall. But it's not an indestructible wall, obviously. Other boys have been able to take a crack at it and have made her falter a little. Freddie's breaking it down bit by bit, but don't expect her to crumble instantly. Be warned.


	12. The yellow bikini is my new God

OFFICIALLY BETA'D

A/N Sorry for the long wait for this one. Real life got in the way, but now that my semester is over for the summer, I should have plenty more time to write. If it's any consolation, it's the longest chapter yet. The next chapter, which is full of smut, is almost completely written, btw…should be up within 2 more days…

Thanks for all the reviews and Pm's…you guys rock.

Chapter 12:  
The creator the yellow bikini is my new God

FPOV

Divinely Happy. It's the only phrase that could come close to describing how I felt. Having a girlfriend was more fantastic than I ever thought it could be. But I think it was more than that. I think it was having Sam as my girlfriend that made it so amazing. I knew that her defining us in that way was HUGE for her. I couldn't help but feel a little smug that I was the one who she was allowing to be her boyfriend. And that's exactly how it felt, that she was allowing me to be her boyfriend. She held me at a distance, figuratively speaking.

Yeah, not literally. Definitely figuratively.

Literally she was holding me as close as she possibly could. Not that I was complaining. _Really_.

It was just so intimidating. I never really allowed my hormones to dictate the make out sessions, petrified that I would do something wrong. I wanted her to lead me, to teach me, but she never did. She would act so WANTONLY, like she wanted more, but I had no idea what more was, so I'd pull away. She never really complained, but I could tell she was just as frustrated as I was becoming.

After her obvious discomfort about telling Carly about us, I held off on telling my mother. Okay, it wasn't ALL Sam's discomfort. I'd never had a girlfriend before and I was terrified as to how my mom would react. Especially since the girlfriend in question was Sam. I knew we'd have to tell Carly and my mother eventually, but for now it was so freaking wonderful to have this little piece of happiness for myself. For us.

It broke my heart into a million pieces whenever Sam would talk about her mother and the horrific shit that she'd been through. But I remembered how much she hated pity, so I made sure to erase my face of any pity looks and try to convey some comfort in my touch.

She loved to touch me. I would see her fingers twitch toward me when we'd be in the same room and my mother was there. It made me smile to know that she wanted to be as close to me as much as I wanted to be with her. And as soon as my mom would leave for work, she'd basically sprint over to me and the lust would boil over.

And it really was _so_ sexy. The way she'd moan when I kissed her deeply, the way her back would arch when I kissed her neck, the sensual way her breasts pushed against me, and the slight rock of her hips against mine when the kissing would intensify. It took my breath away. I wanted to tell her how beautiful and sexy she was, but the words would always get stuck in my throat.

Eventually, when were both wound beyond belief and I had no clue as to what to do with it, I'd allow the kisses to calm and we'd cuddle and talk. I never would have pegged Sam for a cuddler, but she totally was.

I figured it was just her making up for the years of neglect and abuse. Someone needed to hold her, tell her how amazing she was, and make her understand that she was a good person.

We talked about everything. Granted there were things she didn't want to talk about in depth and I could tell when she would give me superficial answers. Boys, for instance, she didn't like talking about other boys, but she did tell me a lot about her family.

And I've never hated anyone before. Ever. I used to think that there was good in everyone. I see now that I was incredibly naïve. Jolene Puckett was not a good person. In any sense of the word. Neither was Chuck Riddell. I had to believe that they would both get what was coming to them. That karma would come back around.

But one of the most amazing upsides to having a girlfriend was that I was finally about to really talk to Carly. I mean, I couldn't tell her anything about Sam and I, and I was desperate to, but all the romantic feelings that I'd had for her were just… gone. I couldn't explain it. It's not that I had suddenly realized that I'd put her on a pedestal, I'd realized that years ago, but it was that everything I thought I'd felt about her was just… wrong. It was like a curtain had been lifted and I didn't feel the need to edit anything that wouldn't paint me in this perfect light. I hadn't realized how exhausting it had been to try and be this perfect guy in front of her.

With Sam, I finally felt what it felt like to have someone care for me the same way I cared about them and it was beyond any feelings of a schoolboy crush. I wanted to tell Sam about it, but I had no idea how to approach that topic. _"Hey, remember when I was totally in love with your best friend but decided to date you? Well, turns out that I like you way more!" _LAME.

After the first week, we had fallen into a very comfortable routine. It was hard to believe it'd only been 12 days since our second "first kiss". We both danced back and forth between the two apartments. She'd visit me in the afternoon if she worked a morning shift, I'd visit her in the morning if she worked in the afternoon.

We didn't bother knocking anymore and simply kept our respective keys with us. I'd made an extra copy of Carly's key so we both had one.

I woke up one morning earlier than normal. I usually didn't get up until about 9 or so, but when I looked over at the clock, I saw that it was only 7:45. I was going to wait to go over to see Sam, but I thought it would be nice if I went over there early and surprised her with breakfast.

Before I could leave the apartment, my mother stopped me.

"Freddie, I… I'd like to talk to you."

I sat on a kitchen stool.

"You and Sam have been spending a lot of time together…" She trailed off suggestively.

I frowned. "We've always spent time together." I said casually, trying not to allow my paranoia overtake me.

She raised one eyebrow skeptically.

"I'm not an idiot, Freddie. I'm your mother. I see how you look at her."

I inhaled quickly. I guess my efforts to try to act like nothing had changed didn't convince her.

"I see you're not denying anything. That's… interesting…" She said and sipped her tea.

I cleared my throat. "She's… we're… she's my girl." I shrugged.

I smiled broadly at the feeling that consumed me at being able to tell someone else that she was mine. It was euphoric.

"Look…" She interrupted my thoughts. "I'm not asking you to tell me everything, good god; I don't even want to know what…" She shook her head quickly.

"I'm just talking to you because there are certain things that you should know… about the female body and the reproductive system if you're going to become sexually…"

"MOOOOOM!" I groaned, throwing my head down onto the counter and my hands over my ears.

I felt her hands pry my own off my ears.

"Fine… fine, fine fine!" She huffed, "But PLEASE tell me you're being safe?" She pleaded.

"Mom… we're not… doing that…" I said, shifting uncomfortably.

She didn't look satisfied with that answer.

I huffed again, "Really. We're not having sex." I said more forcefully, and utterly humiliated to be having a sex talk with my mother.

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms across her chest.

"Okay, I believe you. And I'm not saying that you should or shouldn't be either. You're technically an adult, and I know that you're smart and capable enough to make your own decisions. But can you listen to me about one thing?"

I nodded and braced myself for what was likely to be a really awkward embarrassing lecture.

"It's not something you can un-do. And it's going to mean something to you, so make sure it means something to her. It's so much more than contraception and STD risks and orgasms. It can be completely empty and mean nothing, or it can be absolutely beautiful and mean everything. Please let it be the latter. Okay?"

I was dumbfounded. It was the last thing I expected her to say. She was… letting me grow up.

I nodded and promised. She kissed on the cheek and ruffled my hair and went into the living room to catch up on CSI. My mom did love her crime dramas.

I sat on the stool and contemplated what she had just told me.

I knew that sex would mean more to me than the purely physical pleasure it would give me. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to be in love with Sam before we slept together. But more importantly, I wanted to know that she was in love with me, too.

Thinking about Sam and sex just made me want to see her that much more and I bolted across the hall and unlocked the door with my key. It was then that I heard the unmistakable beat of rap music throughout the apartment. I guess Sam was an early riser.

I cringed as the music pulsed through the apartment. I detested rap music. This song was particularly annoying. There was no way the language that the rapper was using was English.

_I like the way you do that right thur,_

_switch your hips when you're walkin,_

_let down your hur_

_I like the way you do that right thurr,_

_lick your lips when you're talkin_

_that make me stur"_

Ugh.

"SAM!" I called over the music, hoping she'd hear me and turn this shit off.

I headed back to Carly's room, and her door was open. I stopped in my tracks and praised rap music like it was a religion. Sam was folding laundry and dancing. No, dancing is far too innocent a word for what she was doing. She was… god… she looked… I had no words. The sex appeal was just radiating off of her. The way she was moving her hips, the sexy way her breasts bounced to the beat. She would spin in a slow circle to put a piece of clothing away and spin slowly back to fold another piece. At one point, a pair of jeans fell on the floor and she bent over at the waist, her ass in the air and slowly danced her way straight up. It was incredible. It was like I was watching my own private strip dance… without the stripping.

All of a sudden I felt incredibly guilty for watching her when she didn't know I was there, so when she was putting shirt in the drawer, I cleared my throat and she jumped.

"JESUS CHRIST!" She screamed and went beat red. She ran to the radio and turned it down. "How… how long were you there?" She said, biting her lip and avoiding my eyes.

"Not long." I said and walked over to her, pulling her to me, "But long enough to know that I'm taking you dancing sometime."

She buried her face in my chest, "Oh god. You saw me dance like a stripper."

I chuckled. "If it makes you feel better, I THOROUGLY enjoyed it. I felt bad that I wasn't throwing cash at you."

She laughed, though clearly still embarrassed. "I don't think anyone's ever seen me doing my hooker moves. That_'_s so humiliating!**"**

I smiled, a little smug that I'd again, seen her do something no one else had ever seen.

She pulled away and put the rest of the laundry away.

"So, what's on the agenda today, Fredward?"

I leaned against the doorframe. "Well… I was thinking about introducing you to my mom."

She stopped what she was doing and snapped her face to mine. All the color started to drain out of it.

"I mean, introduce you as my girlfriend." I stated, even though I knew she knew exactly what I meant.

She nodded. "Ummm… yeah… okay…" She started breathing a little quicker.

"You don't need to be nervous" I said and pulled her to me again. I knew that my touch calmed her, even if it was only minimally. Truthfully, she had the same effect on me. Well, unless she her tongue was in my mouth, then she did the exact opposite of calm me.

She nodded and threaded her fingers into my hair, pulling me toward her mouth, kissing me softly.

"Okay, Freddie darling, let's go get this over with."

"Well… she sort of already knows…"

She looked up at me with horrified, wide eyes.

"I didn't tell her, she guessed. She said I… she said she could tell by the way I look at you." I muttered embarrassed.

She smiled widely and kissed my cheek, then sighed.

"Fine, Freddie, let me see how fucking weird it feels to be introduced as someone's girlfriend…"

It was an interesting breakfast, but in the end, my mother was perfectly accepting of Sam as my girlfriend. It must have been inspiring because after we hung out for a few hours, Sam decided to re-introduce me down at the diner, or in her words, "Make out with you in front of the waitresses so that they know you're mine. Kind of like a dog marking their territory." Oh, Sam.

Since Lou had already given me his "pep talk" at the diner the last time we were there together, he didn't show much surprise. But the other waitresses looked at us like we had 6 heads. I didn't know if they couldn't believe that I had picked Sam or if they were surprised that Sam had chosen me, but either way, they were visibly surprised. It didn't bother me. What should I care what they thought about the reasons that Sam and I were together? She was my girl and I was happy to hold her hand and kiss her cheek and play with her hair.

But it bothered Sam. She pretended she didn't care, but it was plainly obvious that she did. But instead of lashing out of them in usual Sam fashion, she swallowed it down and put on a fake smile. I frowned at her, wondering why the hell she didn't tell them to "take a fucking picture" or take their shocked looks and "stick them up their asses". It was so unlike her. I kissed her, quite thoroughly, goodbye so she could start her shift and offered to pick her up like always and she smiled a big plastered on fake smile at me. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but it wasn't the right time.

I drove her home that night and she was very quiet. I tried to engage her in conversation, but she just didn't seem up to it. Instead, I just held her hand and rubbed it softly with my thumb. She sighed and kissed my cheek, thanking me.

"What for?" I asked.

"For being you." She said, like it was supposed to be obvious.

I shrugged. "Hey, so you have tomorrow off, right?"

She nodded.

"Do you want to go to the beach tomorrow?" I asked, watching her reaction out of the corner of my eye.

To my great relief, she smiled. It was a tiny smile, but at least it wasn't fake. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

I smiled too and looked back at the road, happy that I was at least able to break the fake smile.

After she'd slipped quietly into Carly's apartment and me into my own, I laid in my bed for a long time awake, not sure what was so off about Sam. I wish I knew what was going through her head so I could make her feel better.

I heard the front door unlock and looked at the clock. It was way too early for my mom to be home, so it must have been Sam. I panicked a little and jumped out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweatpants over my boxers.

"Sam?" I called out as I opened my bedroom door. She was still dressed in her uniform and standing awkwardly in my living room.

"I… I had a shitty day. I know you know that… I don't really want to talk about it." She said firmly.

I nodded cautiously.

"But… if it's okay with you, I'd really like to be near you. I know you'll help me sleep."

My eyes bugged out of my head. She was asking to sleep with me again.

She shot me a disapproving look. "I don't mean it like that. I really just would like to sleep here."

I cleared my throat. "Of course you can sleep here… but… uh… it would probably be most prudent if you left before…"

"Before your mom gets home, yeah totally, I planned on it." She interrupted.

I nodded at her, "Yeah, of course you can sleep here, Sam. C'mere…" I said, opening my arms to hold her. She rushed over and buried herself into me.

I chuckled. "But there's no way I'm sleeping in the same bed with you when you're wearing that uniform. It's bad enough I let you sit in my car when you wear it. It's saturated with the smell of grease."

She sighed. "I know. Sometimes I think I perpetually smell like grease. I feel like I can never get the smell out of my hair and skin."

"Well, you're more than welcome to my shower, since you're already here."

I hadn't even finished the sentence before she was nearly sprinting to my bathroom, unzipping her dress and yelling to me that she needed to borrow some of my clothes before even shutting the door. I grabbed some shorts and a t-shirt and when I heard the water running, shut my eyes and went in, placing them on the counter top for her.

When she emerged from the bathroom, all wet and wearing my clothes, I contemplated how hard it was going to be possible for me to remain a perfect gentleman with her in my bed. She walked over to me and nuzzled into me chest.

"Do I still smell like grease?" She asked.

I inhaled deeply and smelled the heavenly mixture that was clean, soap and girl.

"No… you smell… great." I finished lamely.

She let out a dry chuckle and walked over to the other side of the bed. The boxer shorts she was wearing were too big for her, and she had them rolled over at the waist, making them short enough that there was a tiny amount of cheek visible. I bit my lip. The wet blonde hair was starting to curl a little and was making her white t-shirt wet in places, making it transparent. I tried my best not to notice that one of the transparent places was directly over her breast, giving me a peak of an erect nipple. I shook my head and tried not to ogle her.

She smiled shyly at me as we both approached the bed, and she crawled onto the bed seductively. I bit back a groan when she leaned forward enough to allow me more of a view down her shirt. I let out a shaky breath. She peaked up from under her lashes and held out her hand, pulling me into the bed with her.

I wanted her to show me what to do. I wanted her to kiss me hard and throw me on my back on this bed and make a man out of me. But she didn't. Instead we lay next to each other, barely touching and I watched her fall asleep in record time. I barely slept a wink, terrified that I would end up molesting her in my sleep.

If I thought Sam looked sexy in regular clothes, I needed to come up with a new adjective for her in a bikini. I'd seen her in a bathing suit before, so I didn't expect to feel like I did when I saw her in that beautiful yellow two piece that showed off every curve, every plane… every… gah… I felt like a blind man who was seeing clearly for the first time.

Thank god I'd gotten in the water before she'd taken off her t-shirt and shorts. Bathing suits don't do much for hiding male teenage lust. I was also beyond relief that the beach was completely empty of other people. I didn't like the idea of anyone else seeing this much of her.

She waded in the water, never taking her eyes off of me. She seemed to mirror my look of desire and attraction. I looked down at my chest and smirked a little when I realized she was checking me out just as blatantly.

As she got closer and closer to me in the water, my heart started racing faster and faster. My hands were just aching to touch her, to see what she would feel like under water, without any clothing. The whole experience was just exhilarating.

She stood in front of me, we were close enough to touch, but we weren't, enjoying the moment of anticipation, and feeling the electricity just humming between us. There wasn't a trace of fake smile on her face; instead it was replaced with a sexy smirk, probably one that mirrored my own.

She was the first one to crack, raising her hand out of the waist deep water and resting it lightly on my shoulder. I could feel the cool droplets of water drip down my chest and I shivered. She pulled herself closer to me and my hands found her hips of their own accord under the water. She put her other hand on my shoulder, and all of a sudden the moment exploded, our lips pressed together in a hot open mouth kiss, her breasts crushed to my chest, her fingers threaded into my hair and pulled me further into her mouth. My fingers dug into her hips and she moaned into my mouth. I pulled away from her mouth and kissed and sucked my way down her neck. Her fingers were still in my hair and she held onto me with a force that made me afraid to stop.

We'd never gone beyond this frantic kissing. I didn't know what she wanted me to do. But I guess my frustration level had gone past the point of waiting for her to tell me or show me what she wanted, and I just did what *I* wanted to do. I trailed my hands up from her hips and placed them around her tiny waist, while I kissed lower and lower down her chest, eventually kissing in between the supple cleavage that was laid out for me to see in the bathing suit. The skin there was so soft and I heard and felt her gasp. She threw her head back and thrust her chest forward in a silent plea to continue. I tightened my grip on her waist and pulled her even closer to me while I sucked on the skin of her cleavage roughly.

"Ahhh!" She cried and pushed her hips into mine. I groaned huskily into her chest at the heat that I could feel, even through the water.

"Tell me what you want Sam…" I whispered to her.

"Freddie, Freddie… wait." She said breathlessly.

Holy crap. SAM wants to stop? I was immediately mortified that I'd taken things too far and pulled away abruptly.

She must have understood because she pulled me back to her.

"No, Freddie, you did nothing wrong. TRUST ME. I just need to talk to you about something. Something that I think you may have gotten the wrong impression about, and I think I need to clear things up."

"Okay…" I said, a bit nervously. What did I misinterpret? Was she going to tell me that she was more experienced than she'd let on? Was I not doing something right and she wanted to clarify what it was?

She traced her hands up and down my arms, trying to relax me I'm sure, but the longer she took to talk, the more nervous I became.

"When… when we talked in the diner… about my _history_…" She grimaced.

Oh, no. This was going to be bad. I braced myself.

"I think… I think you might have gotten the impression that I had a lot of experience with guys. And that's my fault. I'm not sure why I give off that impression on purpose. I think maybe it makes people think that I'm more tough if I tell them that I just take boys and then toss them away, instead of it being the exact opposite."

I blinked a few times, not really understanding what she was saying. "Wait. I'm confused."

She sighed. "I've only slept with one person. And it was awful. I felt used and dirty and wrong. I've kissed plenty of boys; well, I should say that they've kissed me… but not much else."

She looked sad.

I swallowed my shock and asked, "Why would you let them kiss you if you didn't want them to?" Then kissed her on the forehead to give her affection without allowing the pity to surface.

She shrugged, "I don't know. I guess it was a weak moment… well weak moments, and I just wanted to know that I wasn't invisible. I went for guys that were in my league."

My heart broke again, "Samantha! None of those guys were even close to being in your league. You don't think nearly high enough of yourself."

She shrugged again, "I just wanted you to know that I'm not this experienced sex guru that you think I am… and that when you asked me what I wanted just then… I had no idea… but you were definitely on to something…" She smirked and pushed her hips into me again.

She was deflecting. She was trying to distract me from talking about her past using her body. Damn it. It was working.

I kissed her sweetly and rubbed her back up and down as she sighed into my mouth. She released her arms from around my neck and I seized the opportunity.

I tightened my hands around her waist, picked her up and threw her across the water, watching her eyes open wide before she splashed down, going all the way under the water.

I laughed heartily as she emerged with a look and an evil smile that had me slightly quivering in fear.

She walked closer and closer toward me and I stepped deeper into the water.

She stopped. "I was going to swim under the water and de-pant you… but something tells me that would be more of a reward than a punishment…" She smirked. "So I think I'll torture you this way…"

She swam further away so that she was neck deep in the water. After a few seconds, she held her bikini top above her head. "I think me topless and you not being able to see is probably way more mean, isn't it?" She said with a sexy wink.

My mouth dropped and I nodded enthusiastically. This girl had given me more masturbation material in the last 2 weeks than I'd gotten in my entire life.

Eventually, we got out of the water and sat on the beach, eating our peanut butter and banana sandwiches and Pringles in a comfortable silence. I could see that her shoulders were getting a little pink and I rubbed some lotion on her. She returned the favor.

We talked about nothing and everything while we soaked in sun and cooled off in the water. It was quickly becoming the best day I'd ever had. Watching the her skin start to tan, seeing all the different shades of blonde in her hair shimmer, and yes, watching those beautiful, perky breasts strain against the tight yellow fabric. I didn't think a gentlemen should be thinking about how fucking sexy it was to see her nipples tighten and strain against the bathing suit when she was coming out of the water, nor should a gentleman be thinking about how it would just take two pulls of the strings to release the top and only two more pulls on each side of her hips to release the bottoms. Sigh. Nope. A gentleman should NOT be thinking about that.

After the sun started to set and the air started to cool, we packed it up and headed toward the car. Sam suggested that we go home and get cleaned up and go out for dinner- her treat. Since I'm all for the woman's movement, I told her I thought it was a great idea.

She wasn't gone more than an hour before she was back at my house, and we picked right back up where we left, snuggling on the couch instead of the beach, me playing with her hair and placing kisses on her face and neck, while she ran her fingers up and down my chest.

My cell phone broke us out of our reverie.

I picked it up on the second ring. "Hey Carly."

"How's Sam?" She asked anxiously.

"She's fine!" I said, exasperatedly. She asked every day in the same anxious way.

"Sorry… she just hasn't called me and I'm worried about her… she doesn't usually go this long without talking to me… and she was really weird the last time I talked to her."

"Carly, she's had a hell of a week; you don't think she might need some time to process. She's not the type to spill her guts anyway."

"I guess. It just didn't seem like it was her mom situation that was off. It was something else. Have you seen her lately?"

I smirked at the fact that said blonde was lying in my lap.

"No, I haven't seen her in a few days, but I know she's over at your place, I hear her shitty music coming from the apartment."

She sat up and stuck her tongue out at me.

"Okay, well, maybe you can try to talk to her? Tell her to call me? I miss her!" She said a little sadly.

"I will" I said, watching Sam's tongue and licked my lips in response. Her face clouded with lust and she bit her lip.

"Okay, Carly, I gotta go." I said hurriedly, wanting to get off the phone so I could kiss the beautiful girl in front of me.

"Freddie?" Carly asked.

"Yeah?"

She was quiet for a minute and then sighed.

"Never mind. I'll talk to you later."

I frowned. It wasn't like Carly to not talk to me.

"Carly, you can talk to me… what's up?"

I went to get off the couch, and walked toward my bedroom, giving Carly some privacy if it was something she didn't want me to discuss in from of Sam. I figured if I kept stuff from Carly for Sam, it was only fair for me to afford the same courtesy to Carly.

"I don't know. I'm just confused about some stuff. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind hearing me out… I don't want you to get too excited or anything…"

I frowned. What on earth was she talking about?

All of a sudden I heard my front door slam. Loudly.

"Carly, I'm gonna call you right back okay?" I said rushed.

"Ummm… okay…" She answered annoyed.

I huffed. "Okay, 5 minutes."

I shut my phone and walked over to Carly's apartment and knocked on the door.

Sam opened it and for the first time in weeks I wanted to run from her. She was PISSED.

"Sam, I just wanted to talk to Carly, and she…"I started to explain, understanding that it must have seemed rude to get up and leave her to talk to Carly.

"Fuck you, Benson." She interrupted.

I reacted as if I'd been slapped. She'd told me to fuck off many times since we've know each other, but never with such venom.

"What?" I said, still in shock.

"I said… FUCK YOU, Benson." She spat angrily. "I don't need to be your fucking second best consolation prize."

I was in such shock that she could even think that, that I didn't respond.

Her eyes teared up. "Not even going to deny it?" She whispered, then closed her eyes and looked more devastated than I'd ever seen anyone look.

"Sam... it's not even close…" I protested.

She put her hand up to stop me. "Stop it."

"Sam, you need to listen to me, I would never think…" I protested again,

"JUST FUCKING STOP IT!" She screamed at me and stormed off down the hall.

"AND DON'T FUCKING FOLLOW ME!" She yelled as she walked.

Feeling completely helpless and responsible, I slumped down against the wall, and waited. She had to come back. She had nowhere else to go. She'd have to come back to me. I wouldn't allow myself to think that she wouldn't come back.

After six hours of sitting in the hallway, I'd given up. My heart was broken, and I had no one to blame but myself. I went back to my room and opened my window as far as it would go and left my light on, knowing that if she walked by the apartment building, she would see that I still wanted her to come back. That she would always have a place with me… if she wanted it.

A/N Sorry if there are any spelling/grammar errors, I don't have a Beta and sometimes I just don't see them till after I post the chapter….

***WELL I'M HERE NOW, in all my BETA glory! Xd* -Emma**


	13. Vulnerability vs Orgasms? Orgasm wins

OFFICALLY BETA'D

A/N Soooooooo. This, people, is a graphic lemon. If you are under 18, I feel legally obligated to remind you that this is a Mature fic, and is rated as such, and that you need to click that little red X in the corner. …

Now that you've all ignored me ;)…..time for some smut.

Chapter 13

**I hate being vulnerable…but I do like orgasms**

**SPOV**

_Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. I have nowhere to go._

This was the running dialogue in my head. I didn't want to go back to Carly's. He'd never stop knocking at the door. I didn't have any other options. Though I knew it wasn't entirely true. I could sneak into a bar; find a guy, and crash at his place after pretending to having too many drinks. But things were different now. I wouldn't want to do that to Freddie. Whatever happened with us today, and well, over the last few weeks, had been more than okay. Before the green eyed monster over my best friend, no, OUR best friend, came into play, these last few weeks had been the best of my life.

I had been telling myself not to look at him like this for years for this exact reason. I had been tricking myself into thinking that if I just got him to be mean to me, and treated him like a jerk, that'd he'd become a jerk. I think deep down I knew I've always loved him.

Today, at the beach, while he was holding me in the water, I finally acknowledged it to myself. I was truly head over heels in love with Freddie Benson. I wanted to go out to a nice dinner and I wanted to tell him. Hell, I wanted to tell the world. I had even planned on telling Carly tomorrow after I'd told Freddie himself first.

But no, he had to tap into that insecure little girl in me. He had to remind me that I will always be second best. He had to remind me that I would always be competing with my best friend. And that fucking sucks.

I hated to be the one to feel vulnerable. I hated to be the one who was putting myself out there. I hated being the one who liked him more than he liked me. I hated that. I hated the feeling that he still was head over heels for Carly. I hated that I felt like I needed to compete with her. I hated that I needed validation from Freddie and that he wasn't giving it to me.

But when push comes to shove, he was still way better than I deserved. I just had to hold out hope that Carly would never see him that way, and that Freddie could just settle for second best. I would go back and take what I could get. And that was going to be plenty for me. I just needed to swallow my jealousy and go back there. God, I hope he doesn't want an apology. I don't do apologizing well.

I walked back slowly, thinking of a way to apologize without actually telling him why I came back. I really didn't want to have to tell him that I was okay with being second best. That just sounds desperate and pathetic. Which is what I was… but admitting it out loud? _Sigh._

I finally reached the apartment building and looked up toward his window. It was late and I didn't want to wake him up if he was sleeping. The lights were out, but I noticed his window was open and I smiled. So like him to leave me an open invitation to come back. I still had the key, but this seemed much more appropriate. I climbed the fire escape stairs, one floor at a time, until I got to his window. I peered in and saw him asleep, smooshed up on one side of the bed. I smiled again; he was expecting me to come back. Or at least hoping.

Sleeping in his bed last night was the most sensual thing I'd ever experienced. There was no touching, there was no kissing, no groping, but just being in that bed, and feeling the electricity between us was amazing. I glared at the alarm clock that told me it was time to leave before Freddie's mom had an aneurism.

And I was so thankful that he didn't ask why I wanted to sleep there. He knew I'd had a bad day. He knew at the diner that something was off before he even left. And he must have known that I didn't want to talk about it, he didn't push me to.

It was exactly what I was afraid of though. I walked into that diner and introduced Freddie as my boyfriend to those girls. And those girls looked at both of us with the look that clearly said, "Really? You picked *her*?" I wanted to tell them to eat shit and then go fuck themselves, but I couldn't. Because I agreed with them.

I still didn't understand why he wanted to be with me, and I just assumed it was lack of options. It doesn't do much for a girl's confidence level when she realizes that a guy is only with her because he won't get anyone else. Not that he couldn't. He was adorable. He was funny. He was sweet, charismatic, charming, sexy… oh god, so sexy… thinking about what his mouth did to my cleavage while he grabbed my hips today made me flush all over.

Maybe he just didn't realize that he could get any other girl. Well, I wasn't going to be the one to tell him he was clearly dating someone below his league… I was just going to take what I could get. I was just going to soak it all up, while I still could.

I entered the room through his window quietly and flittered off to the bathroom to brush my teeth and change into one of his shirts and boxers. I know how much he likes it when I wear his clothes. I could see that from the first day I wore them. I can't believe that was only a few weeks ago. So much has changed since that first day. But the way he looks at me when I wear his clothes, it's different than when I wear mine or Carly's. It's possessive. For the first time in my life, I actually didn't mind being looked at that way. I really was his. For now.

I came out of the bathroom and into the bedroom and he was awake, shirtless and sitting up, staring at me.

"You came back." He said astonished as he turned on a lamp.

"Yeah." I said looking at the floor.

"C'Mere." He commanded. And he held his arms out.

Against my will, I rushed over to him, hopping on the bed and falling onto his lap and into his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. I didn't know what to say. I had no idea you felt that way. Honestly, I didn't think that you thought like that." He said, running his fingers up and down my arms.

"You didn't think that I thought like what? You and I both know you've been in love with Carly since you saw her. What else am I supposed to think? It's not the phone call. She's our friend; I know she needed to talk to you. But, the phone call just made it real." I said, pushing my face into the crook of his neck.

"Made what real?" He questioned.

I sighed. "Don't make me say it." I said, and my voice began to shake.

"What Sam? I really have no idea!" He said.

"I just feel… I think that… You and Carly…" I sighed. "You'll always have feelings for Carly… and you on the phone with her… it just reminded me of that." I finished and looked down at my hands which were pulling at a string in the quilt on Freddie's bed. "I'm not poking around for you to deny it. I don't want you to, I won't believe you."

Freddie grabbed my hand and held it in his. He put his other hand on my chin and lifted it up so I was forced to look him in the face. He looked at me so concerned, so filled with emotion that my heart broke a little.

"Me and Carly aren't real, Sam. Anything I felt for her was based on fantasy. Any sort of romantic ideas are all based on the picture I painted in my head. For a long time, that was all I had to go on."

He looked away, clearly embarrassed now.

"You know my romantic history with girls... or lack thereof..." He finished lamely.

I interrupted, "And you KNOW that I don't think that's a negative thing about you at all, not to mention the fact that I'm not all that more experienced than you are…" I protested.

"I know, but this is not what we're talking about right now."

He kissed my fingers and took a deep breath.

"What I had with Carly was all make believe. I thought it was love, because it was all I knew. But since you and I have been together, I don't know, it's different now. I see what it's like to have someone look at you the same way you look at them… it's terrifying and wonderful at the same time. You make me feel completely different than Carly ever did. In the most perfect ways."

He paused, and looked at me to gauge my reaction. Old Sam might have been waiting for him to pause so I could make fun of his sensitivity. It was amazing that when the sensitivity was directed to me, it didn't seem so bad. He seemed relieved that I wasn't making fun of him, and he continued.

"What we have is chemistry Sam; I can't believe we never saw it before." He shook his head. "Real, honest to god, chemistry. I feel the electricity when you're near me. I want to touch you when you're in the room. I want to kiss you all the time. Even now, we're just talking, but having you near me, I just… I want…" He trailed off in his own innocently suggestive way. He leaned in to me and lightly kissed my lips.

I pulled away and looked up at him. "You want what, Freddie?" I asked, equally suggestive.

He held my face and looked me in the eyes.

"I want you to know that you are not second best, in any way. I want you to know that you have made me feel things that I've never felt before, and you were making me feel them since the 10th grade when you kissed me. I want you to believe me when I tell you that you deserve to be first... and not some consolation prize. That is what I want."

He kissed me deep and slow and sweet. He pulled away before the kiss could get lusty.

I sighed and he leaned back onto the headboard and he pulled me so that I was resting on his chest while he played with my hair.

The never before feeling of an overwhelming need to apologize came over me.

"I'm sorry for overreacting Freddie. I want to believe you, and all those wonderful things you just said. Really, I do. I just don't know how to accept that kind of… praise."

He kissed the top of my head and I smiled and leaned into him more.

"You are everything I thought I could never have. You have to know that's why we never got along. I pushed you away. You may not have noticed the chemistry until now, but I did. I felt like you were being paraded in front of me, to tease me, to show me that I could never have someone like that. Someone who might respect me and be nice to me. Someone who might someday love me for me. I've never had that in my life. I don't know what it's like to be first. I don't know what it's like to feel deserving of anything worth having."

I couldn't believe the words I was saying. This was more honest than I'd ever been with anyone, including myself. It was all true, and it felt incredibly cathartic to say out loud. I didn't know how to accept his adoration, because I'd never been shown that I was good enough to be deserving of it. I certainly didn't feel deserving of it now, now that I'd just had a major meltdown over a simple phone call.

"I hate that your mother did this to you." He said quietly.

I snorted but didn't say anything. I agreed with him.

"I want to do everything in my power to show you what a good person you are. You need to know how un-second best you are." We lay back on the pillows and I took it as a hint.

The boy wanted to SHOW me. Nice.

While I'd fantasized about being with Freddie for a long time, never in my wildest imagination would I have thought the circumstances would be like this. Until a few weeks ago, I didn't think that it would have been anything except an angry, frustrated sex session in the backseat of a car or a janitor's closet.

I certainly didn't think that it would be a situation in which *I* would be nervous. But I was.

Really. Nervous.

I mean, okay, yeah, we had talked about our lack of experience. So, yeah, I knew that sex would be a first for him, and he knew that while it wasn't my first time technically, it would still be drastically different.

I wondered how Freddie envisioned his first time to be like. I tried to banish the thought that it involved Carly. I tried to figure out how he envisioned his first time with ME. I thought about what I could do to make it perfect.

I wanted to make it special. I wanted to make it right. I wanted to make it perfect for him. I was never more regretful of my first time as much as I was then. I wished that I could be as innocent and pure as he was, so that I could give that to him as well, but I was also thankful that at least one of us was confident enough in the mechanics that we could get through it.

He lay on his back and me on my side snuggled into the crook of his arm, our legs tangled. I looked up at him and started kissing him. His hand went around my face and pulled me closer. My hands went down his chest and he shivered under my touch. Except for today's cleavage sucking, we'd never gone beyond kissing. I was doing my best to keep it slow, to take shit as it came.

His tongue was caressing mine and his hands moved down my shoulders and arms and then to my waist. He turned on his side and I wrapped my leg around his hip. He gasped and stiffened, clearly shocked, and then groaned into my mouth. We were both only wearing boxers, two thin pieces of cotton the only thing separating us, and I could feel him, so hard already, against me. I'm sure he could feel how hot I was against him. His hand trailed shakily over my ass and I ground myself into his dick. He squeezed my ass and moaned while he kissed me deeply. I cried out in pleasure as he did it again. After the second time I pushed into him, he started pushing back, pulling my ass into him. The friction was amazing. He pulled away from my mouth and kissed my forehead, then pushed his dick into me again.

"Jesus Christ." He muttered. His forehead rested on mine and I felt like I was on fire. I wanted him, I needed him.

I gathered all my courage and whispered, "Freddie. Please touch me." I said huskily in his ear, while my tongue flicked out and licked his earlobe.

"Holy… You're… so sexy… I want you so much Sam." He panted.

Apparently I really, really, really liked dirty talk. "Freddie, Please, god, I'm going crazy." I was panting into his neck and I could feel the rise and fall of his chest quickening too.

His hands squeezed my ass one more time and I squeaked a little bit. He smirked a little and his hands moved up and rested on my hip. They were still shaking. He kissed my neck a little and I started unbuttoning the shirt I was wearing.

"Here, let me help." His hand ghosted up my stomach and started unbuttoning from the bottom. As the last button fell out of its loop, he pushed the shirt over my shoulders and off my arms, he let out a gush of air. I looked down and saw the lustiest eyes I've ever seen, but they weren't looking into my eyes. They were locked on my breasts.

"Samantha, you are the most beautiful… I've never seen… stunning…" His voice was strained and hoarse and he licked his lips and then dragged his teeth over the bottom one. His eyes remained on my breasts and I couldn't help but smirk.

His eyes finally flickered to mine and he opened his mouth a few times to speak, but nothing came out. I threw the poor boy a bone. I sat up and pulled him with me. He sat propped on the headboard again, and I straddled him, my breasts almost directly in front of his face. I couldn't help but notice the way he was watching me. This was sexy and lustful, but it was also caring and gentle… loving. It was just so… nice.

I sat straddled for a few seconds and it was clear that Freddie was going to need clear instructions.

I took a deep breath and gathered some more courage.

"Freddie. I want to feel your lips on me." I said, and circled my hips against his for good measure.

He groaned, whether at my words or the friction, likely both, and dipped his head, kissing down in between my cleavage. His hands were stroking my back and I was gripping his hair, trying to keep this sweet and soft when I really wanted to throw him on his back and hop on. He teased and nipped his lips over my right breast and I gasped when he did the same to my nipple. He lowered his hands to my ass and gripped me tightly. He took my whole nipple in his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. I let out a big breath and moaned.

He pulled away and looked at me, "You like that?" He asked, obviously pleased that he was making me feel good.

"Yes, but don't stop!" I pouted and thrust my chest back in his face.

He chuckled and switched to the left breast, more confident in his efforts to suck and nip. His hands continued to squeeze my ass and I was getting more and more excited. I started moaning louder when his touch became firmer.

"Oh, God. Freddie! That feels so good! Don't stop, please, don't stop." I gripped his hair and pushed my chest into his face, his nips becoming rougher, his sucking becoming frantic. He kissed up my collarbone and my neck and finally reached my lips. I still had my hands wrapped up in his hair and I pulled his face into mine harder, my tongue and his battling for dominance, his breathing and my own growing frantic, my whimpers being swallowed by his passionate kiss.

He groaned and bent to suck a nipple into his mouth again. One of his hands left my ass and traveled up my side and cupped my breast. I gasped at the dual sensation of his mouth on my nipple and his firm grasp on the rest of my breast. My head fell back as I writhed my hips over his, forcing his other hand to dig into my ass and push himself up into me again. He released my nipple and kissed up my neck and licking my earlobe.

I could hear him panting and could hear the soft grunts that he was making every time I shifted over his dick. "God, Sam… I want to make you come for me…" he whispered, so low I thought I imagined it.

A heady wave of arousal went through me and I moaned loudly, nodding enthusiastically.

He pulled away completely and I whined, missing the contact. He got off the bed and pulled me with him. We were both standing beside the bed and I was so confused.

Before I could ask, Freddie sat back down on the bed and I stood before him.

"Sam, I want to learn you. To learn what makes you feel good. I want to know your body." He kissed my belly and looked up at me. "Please?"

Who am I to deny a guy THAT?

I nodded and he sat back for a minute, with me topless, with my arms resting over his shoulders, standing before him. His eyes raked over my breasts, my stomach, my legs, my arms, my eyes, my lips, my shoulders, my waist, my hips. His fingers followed and traced every outline. He spent a lot of time tracing my belly button, which I have to say had never been so thoroughly discovered. I found out it felt amazing. Just the simple act of him brushing his finger tips over my collarbones made me shiver. Then he finally leaned forward and put his mouth to my body. He used soft feathery kisses and tiny licks everywhere. Kissing my arms, licking my earlobe, placing wet open mouth kisses on my belly and hips, licking his way up to my breasts again. My knees were starting to give out and I leaned in to kiss him, pushing him back on the bed and climbing on top of him, straddling him.

"Show me, Freddie. Show me how un-second best I am." I whispered into his ear after nibbling his earlobe.

"Whoa whoa whoa, Sam, stop." He pushed me away from his body and I was immediately mortified.

I sat up quickly. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to push things too far, I thought that…" I stammered.

He laughed. "No, Sam, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to get the wrong impression, I didn't mean SHOW you, like, SHOW you. I meant show you though my actions. Show you by respecting you. Not by sleeping with you until you understand how much you mean to me… and knowing how much I mean to you."

"Oh." I said, feeling entirely too rejected for my liking. It was quiet for a few minutes and I was starting to get pissed. What the fuck was wrong with this boy? A pretty girl throws herself at him and he turns her down? No wonder he hadn't gotten laid before. It's all about seizing the opportunity!

"Sam." He startled me out of my revelry.

"Hmm?" I mumbled.

"You know this has nothing to do with how much I want you right now… right?" He asked shyly.

"Do you?" I shrugged, trying to appear indifferent.

"YES!" He shouted and sat up. He pulled me on top of him again, so I was straddling him as he sat, still feeling the rock hardness of his erection between us.

"You are unbelievably sexy, Samantha." He said, while I slowly circled my hips on top of him. He groaned again. "I am… ugh… kicking myself right now for stopping you… But I want to show you… how much you deserve to be… ugh... Jesus Christ… respected." He grabbed my hips and held them still, and laid his head down over my breasts.

He really did want to wait until he was in love with me. I knew I was in love with him, but I had to respect that he wanted to wait until he was in love with me. So, that meant no grinding on the poor virgin. I know I was going crazy, so I must have been driving this poor guy insane. I lifted his face, kissed him gently on the lips.

"Okay. I won't FORCE you to sleep with me." I said sarcastically.

"Ummm… thank you?" He said sarcastically, looking frustrated.

"But does that mean that we can't do anything?" I asked, biting my lip and hoping that he would concede a little bit.

He looked intrigued. "What do you have in mind?"

I started kissing his chest and talking through my kisses. "Well… at some point… of this grope fest… you said you… wanted to make me…" I gulped. "come…"

His breath hitched. I lifted my eyes to his. "Is that still a possibility?"

He swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Then it could be gathered that it would be okay for me to make you…?" I asked, my voice coming out more like a purr.

He whimpered. I smiled and leaned in to lick his ear lobe. "I'm assuming that's a yes?" I whispered. He grunted twice in quick succession to show that yes, it would be okay for me to make him come. The idea thrilled me. Before I could decide how I wanted to make him do it, he had flipped me on my back was kissing and sucking on my breasts, while his hand traced lightly over my thighs.

"I don't have any idea what I'm doing Sam." He said shakily.

I stroked his cheek and kissed him softly. "Just touch me. You said you wanted to learn me…"

The look in his eyes was so innocent and pure, and filled with lust at the same time. He was so beautiful when he looked at me adoringly like this. He needed to know that.

"You're so beautiful Freddie." I said, my finger still tracing his cheek. "I just thought you should know that. You're perfect."

He smiled and I saw that I had given him the confidence that he needed to continue on his mission.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from watching him kiss and lick me, watching his hands touch every inch of my legs, teasing under the seam of the boxers I was wearing. I needed friction. I was so wet I could feel it seep out onto my upper thighs and I saw the moment that Freddie felt it. His breath came out in a loud hiss.

"You're so wet. Jesus Christ, Sam." He looked up at me and licked his lips. "Do I do this to you? Did I get you this… turned on?" He bit his lip and his fingers brushed the very outside of my sex.

I gasped and nodded. "Yes… only you." He moaned and I felt his fingers barely touching me there again.

"Oh Jesus Christ! Please touch me, Freddie!" I nearly screamed.

His fingers slid against me and I cried out from the desperately needed friction that was being met. My eyes shut as I reveled in the delicious sensations that were taking over my body. I whimpered when he pulled his hand away and was about to protest when he lightly tugged at the waist of the boxers, indicating I should lift my hips. I did and opened my eyes, wanting to see his reaction to me naked.

I wasn't disappointed. When before he looked riddled with lust, now he looked like he was drowning in it. His fingers tentatively touched where they had been before, but now he was watching what he was doing, and he licked his lips again. He used his other hand to push open my thighs and now I was completely exposed to him. He moaned loudly as he explored my sensitive flesh with his fingers again. He was so tentative and gentle, and I threaded my fingers with his to show him what I liked, I guided his thumb to my clit, and bucked against him when he circled it again. After a few minutes he had gotten the hang of it and I pulled my hand away.

"Sam… you're perfect… so… hot… wet… god, I want you…"

His words sent another wave of arousal through me and I felt my stomach flip. "Oh, Freddie, I want you too. You have no idea how much…"

He leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Tell me. Tell me what you want."

He pulled back, I'm assuming so he could watch his fingers disappear inside me.

"I want to touch you, to put my hands on you like you're touching me. I want you in my mouth. I want to taste you."

I paused to see how my words were affecting him. I didn't want to freak him out with my dirty talk.

He moaned and his ministrations sped up and he placed his thumb on my clit and made tiny quick circles.

"Oh god, Freddie, it won't take me long to come if you keep that up." My hips moved faster and his fingers kept up.

"Good. I want you to come. I want you to come for me, Samantha." I could feel my body starting to tighten, spiraling toward orgasm. I stayed at the high right before coming for what seemed like ever. I needed a little extra push to get there.

"Jesus, you're so tight. I can't wait to feel you around my dick." He growled.

And with that, I came, screaming his name and various expletives. I exploded, my body tensing and releasing in a beautiful state of bliss.

I lay there panting and he pulled his fingers from me, kissing my belly and breasts while I came down from my high.

When I regained my composure, I sat up and kissed him hard. "Your turn."

I sat up and flipped him on his back, and I kissed down his chest and stomach and lightly tracing around his boxers. My hands were touching his thighs, getting so close to touching his dick, but I was teasing him… He looked like he was ready to lose his god damn mind. Finally, I went to my knees bent over him, I pulled off his boxers and looked right up into his eyes. I bit my lip seductively then stuck my tongue out, giving his cock a tiny lick. He whimpered for more. Then I stuck out my tongue again and licked all the way from the base to the very tip, and briefly swirled my tongue over the head. He thrust his hips in my face and grasped onto my hair. All the while, my hands were touching him, stroking him. I finally took all of him into my mouth and proceeded to set a gloriously slow pace. Letting my tongue swirl at the tip and then creating suction. He moaned when I allowed my teeth to barely graze the underside of his cock.

"Fuck, that feels so good." He whispered.

I rarely ever heard Freddie swear. I liked hearing it when his dick was in my mouth. In fact, I was slowly learning that Freddie was a foul mouthed sailor in the bedroom. I like it. A Lot.

I started sucking him faster and faster, moaning more when he thrust his hips into my mouth. I moved my hand to the base of his cock with one hand and held onto what I couldn't take in my mouth and moved the other hand to cup his balls. He tightened his grip on my hair and I tightened my grip on his cock. His pants started getting louder and louder.

"Sam… oh god… Sam… You're going to make me come." I moaned deeply and slid my mouth deeper around him, showing him that I wanted it.

"FUCK!" He shouted as I watched him watching me as my lips moved around his cock and my throat swallowed everything he gave me.

I licked him clean and released him with a pop. He looked so beautiful. Relaxed, and happy… and satisfied. I was so happy that I could make him feel that way. We laid together in silence while our breathing went back to normal. I had crawled up into his arms, and he stroked my hair while I let out little hums of satisfaction. After a while, I crawled off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, not because the taste was gross, I mean, it wasn't pleasant, but it didn't gross me out, and I know he'd kiss my anyway, but still, I wanted to be considerate nonetheless.

I came back and we lay there in bed together, him holding me, while he played with my hair. I turned over and flipped off the lamp.

"Freddie?" I asked, yawning.

"Yeah?" he said.

"I love it when you call me Samantha." I replied sleepily.

"I love calling you that." He responded sweetly.

I fell asleep quickly and wondered into a pleasant dream filled with lakes and beaches and peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

A/N…so what did you think of the almost sexing? I know, I know, "WHY CAN'T THEY JUST DO IT ALREADY?" Tell me about it people. I've got blue balls for them both. But at least they both are going to sleep with a smile, yeah?

I know that Freddie is super OOC here, but ya know what I've experienced in all of my 28 year old glory? It's always the quiet, nice boys that end up being the dirtiest, raunchiest boys ever with the foulest mouths once the clothes come off. And then they go right back to be super respectful when the clothes are on. It's similar to the "Lady on the street, but a freak in the bed" phenomenon….

Anyway…tell me what you thought!


	14. Wieners

OFFICIALLY BETA'D

A/N My deepest apologies for the delay in updates. Got some chizz going on in my life and I wasn't in the best place to write. I'm still not quite all there yet, so it's a short one, but hopefully my new mantra will be "short and often" instead of "long and uh…not often"…

This fic is still rated M. For smut. And violence. And swearing. Ya know, the good stuff. So if you're underage….sigh…you're still ignoring me, aren't you? :P

Enjoy

Chapter 14

FPOV

So. Blow jobs? BEST THINGS EVER.

As a writer, you'd think I'd have the proper adjectives to properly describe it. I don't. I'm pretty sure there isn't a language on this earth that has the right words to describe everything. From the way she looked when she was unbuttoning her shirt for me, or the way my body reacted to her talking dirty to me, it was all just… fucking amazing.

I was lying in bed watching Sam sleep and replaying the episode over and over in my head. Of course, I was beyond relieved that she'd even come back to begin with. But I woke up when I heard my bathroom door shut and thanked god that she returned to me. When she came out wearing my shirt and a pair of my boxers, I got hard almost instantly. I tried to focus on her emotional well being, and not the fact that I could clearly see the outlines of her nipples through the thin white fabric. God damn, I was a fucking perv.

But after trying to reassure her that she deserved to be a number one priority, and that I never, not for a second, considered her a consolation prize, and I was trying to show that through my kisses, she went and upped the ante by wrapping her leg around me and shoving my cock into her heat. I couldn't get close enough to her. I let my newly discovered perverted mind control my actions and she appeared to like it. Me gripping her ass, me pushing my hard on into her, me seeing her topless, me groping and tasting her breasts. I'd like to think I was fairly in control of myself until she started talking. Good god. The talking. Hearing my name roll off of her tongue in combination with "oh god" or a moan. It made me crazy.

Much to my mortification, her talking made my filter disappear. I was just blurting out the most sexually obscene things I'd never, ever said out loud before. Thankfully, Sam didn't slap me or seemed offended in any way. It seemed that Sam loved dirty talk as much as I did. I could hear her breathing pick up and she let out the sexiest whimpering sound I'd ever heard after I told her I wanted her to cum.

But then I had to go and be respectful by realizing that she wasn't doing it for the right reasons. She thought I wanted to show her that she deserved to be my top priority in a physical way. I did. My god. I do. But my mother was absolutely right about one thing. I wanted sex with Sam to mean something to me, and I wanted it to mean something to her too. I wanted to know Sam was in love with me, and I wanted to know that I was in love with Sam.

But I learned so much about her body, and I worshipped every inch of it. The way she made me feel confident even though I had no idea what I was doing, was the sweetest thing she'd ever done for me, and the emotional connection between us was unbelievable. But trying to describe what it felt like for me to push my fingers inside her, to watch her as she moved her hips in a rhythm with my hand, to see her mouth form a perfect "O" as she bowed off the bed and screamed words that would make a porn star blush as she came for me… sigh… there really are no words for that.

And then to top it all off like the proverbial cherry, no pun intended, there was the blow job. I wanted to tell her that it wasn't necessary, that she had given me tons of pleasure just by allowing me to touch her and watch her orgasm, but my brain lost the ability to form words once her tongue came in contact with my genital region. It was warm and wet and the obscenely erotic image of her on my bed naked between my legs with my dick in her mouth was overwhelming. The things she was doing with her tongue and her hands, and how she was moaning around me, and god… I don't even know what I said, or how efficiently my brain filter was working… probably not well, but whatever I was saying was spurring her on more, her hands seemed to be touching me everywhere and I was deeper and deeper in her throat. I was trying to delay the inevitable, just to be able to experience the pleasure of being in her mouth, but it just became too much. It felt too good and she just looked too fucking sexy. I'm sure I told her I was cumming; I wanted to make sure she knew so she could stop, I wouldn't have been offended. But she hung in like a trooper, moaning around me and sinking my cock deeper into her throat. And then the experience became spiritual. I came harder than I'd ever thought possible, and at that moment I completely and totally got the obsession with blow jobs. I'm pretty sure I'm obsessed with them now as well.

She fell asleep almost instantly after getting back into bed, but I lay there a while, one arm behind my head and the other wrapped around Sam and I was watching her sleep. She looked so serene and happy. She looked peaceful and above all… beautiful. She looked absolutely perfect. I realized at that moment that I was in love with her. That it might literally kill me if she were not in my life.

It was fucking terrifying.

I figured that I would be the guy that falls in love with love. I thought that when I realized I was in love with a girl, that I'd be the type to send roses and have romantic candlelit dinners and spend hours and hours worshipping my said true love.

When I realized that Sam was said true love, my one and only instinct was to run. I wanted to run away. I wanted to go and curl up with my mother and have her tell me it was going to be just fine.

_This is completely irrational. Why am I afraid? What is there to be afraid of?_

Sam. Sam's rejection. Sam not wanting me. Sam realizing that she could do better. Sam thinking she's not good enough for me and leaving me "before I leave her". Sam being ashamed of me in front of Carly and Spencer.

I got up and went into the kitchen to get a glass of milk, needing some physical space from Sam to sort through the feelings that were reeling, and getting more ridiculous by the minute.

_What if Sam doesn't want me because I'm going to college and I won't be as close? What if Sam doesn't want to be with me because of my smothering mother? What if Sam meets my douche bag father and thinks I'll end up like him and won't want me?_

I woke up several hours later to Sam kissing my cheek and whispering for me to go back to bed. I sat up quickly, disoriented as I realized that I had fallen asleep at the breakfast bar.

Sam smiled widely at me, with nothing but tender affection toward me. I sighed at smiled back. Maybe I wasn't going to feel 100% better about any of those fears, but right now, I knew that she wanted to be with me, and I was going to have to do everything in my power to make her feel that way forever.

I didn't go back to sleep, but instead tossed and turned in my bed thinking about the fact that I was in love with Sam. The more I thought about it, the more I thought that maybe I was just infatuated with her. I mean, so many people confuse sex and love all the time, maybe I was just so infatuated with her after the greatest blow job in the history of blow jobs. Surely, I couldn't be in love with her after just a few weeks.

I had convinced myself that that's exactly what it was, and finally got out of bed around 10. We had planned on having lunch together, and I was determined to not make things weird for her. I was going to be her boyfriend and I was going to be affectionate, but I didn't need to make things more serious for her if she didn't want it serious. She was still dealing with the idea of me as her boyfriend. I didn't want to add to that stress by letting her know that I may or may not be in love with her.

But the second she opened the door and I saw her face, all the convincing I'd done to tell myself that I wasn't in love with her just dissipated. I undoubtedly was. My insides surged and I got goose bumps when she kissed me hello. I didn't think it was possible for her to look more beautiful, but she was. Angelically so.

I stared at her as the strong emotions poured through my body.

"What?" She asked subconsciously.

I shook my head and smiled at her.

"Nothing. You're just… beautiful."

She blushed and grumbled, "Okay, okay, you don't have to kiss my ass. A simple, 'Last night was great, can we do it again?' will suffice."

I chuckled. "Last night wasn't great, it was perfection, and we WILL be doing it again… VERY soon." I promised to both her and myself. There was no way I was going to go too long without doing THAT again.

She blushed a deeper red and cleared her throat.

I smirked at the fact that we'd gone full circle. I was the one embarrassing her with sexually lewd comments. Awesome.

"So where do you want to go?" I asked as we drove toward downtown.

"ROBIN'S WEINERS." She answered enthusiastically.

I was kind of surprised. Sam didn't usually care; she had a favorite food at every restaurant.

"Okay… why there?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Just got a craving."

It was quite a drive, but for Sam… anything. We pulled up the hot dog place that was legendary and she nearly sprinted to the stand. I chuckled at the fact that she was still old Sam, even though less than 12 ago I had her naked in my bed.

We sat down at the picnic table and started eating. I started thinking about the last time I had eaten here and immediately felt like the biggest dick on the planet.

It was her birthday. We always went here on her birthday. It was her favorite.

"Hey" I said softly, getting her attention and trying not to laugh at her cheeks stuffed with hot dog.

"Happy birthday." I said, smiling, and plotting my head as to what I could do to make it really special for her.

She smiled shyly and spoke though the mounds of hot dog and bun in her mouth, "I didn't know if you'd member and I didn't want to make you feel bad… cuz um… I totally don't know yours." She laughed and swallowed.

"I know it's in May sometime… right?" She continued.

I laughed. "November… but close." I couldn't hold it against her, I had just realized hers myself.

She nodded, "Yeah, close enough."

"So what do you want to do today birthday girl?" I said, leaning over the table and kissing her on the forehead.

She put down her hot dog, like something had made her lose her appetite.

"There is something I need to do today." She looked grim. "And I think I might need your help."

"Anything Sam. Anything." I said and I squeezed her hand to emphasize it.

"I… I need to get an apartment soon…" She said, but I knew that's not what she needed help with.

"Now that I'm 18, I can rent something on my own, thank god."

She was stalling.

"What do you need to do today?" I asked her.

"I need to go to my house and get some things. They can't make me stay anymore…" Her voice shook as she said it.

It was such an out of body experience to see her so afraid of anyone. It wasn't her… or at least, it wasn't the "her" that she ever let me see before.

"Will you come with me?" She asked, her eyes tearing up, looking more like a lost little girl than the fierce, tough girl I'd always known. It reminded me of how she looked the day she showed up at my door, and it broke my heart all over again.

I got up and walked over to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Of course, Sam. Anything for you."

The drive back to town was tense and heavy. I knew she was growing more and more nervous as we got closer, and truth be told, so was I. What on earth was I going to do if things got physical? Should I have called the cops for an escort?

She was giving me short, clipped, directions to her house, somewhere I'd never been before. We started getting into the bad part of town, graffiti covering most of the buildings and underpasses. People sitting on their front porches drinking out of paper bag covered bottles, there were bail bond offices at every corner and I swore I heard gunshots at some point. Sam didn't look rattled, but instead looked very focused. I tried to reign in my panic and put on a façade of calm.

We pulled into the trailer park and after a few more "left here" and "veer right" directions, we were there. It looked like a regular crappy trailer from the outside. I could tell by the way that Sam refused to meet my gaze that she was embarrassed to be from here. I wanted to tell her I didn't care. I wanted to pull her to me and promise that she would never end up back here ever again. But something told me that her embarrassment was the least of our worries right now.

"Ready?" I asked.

She nodded. We got out and approached the trailer. She pulled out her key and unlocked the trailer as quietly as possible. We stepped though the door and I was appalled. The place was a disaster. Dishes piled high in the sink, trash bags placed haphazardly around the house, clothes covering every surface and bottles and cans in every possible nook and cranny of the place. And the smell, my god, the smell was more atrocious than anything I've ever smelled in my life. Like a literal cocktail of vomit and piss. The color was completely drained of Sam's face as she took in the appearance of the trailer. I was more than relieved that this was a shock to her, that at least this isn't how she was used to seeing the place and therefore used to living this way.

"Oh my god." She whispered to herself, closing her eyes.

"You okay?" I whispered back.

She nodded, and a lone tear escaped from her eye. "I always wondered who would clean the place if I ever left… I guess I know the answer now." Her voice was trembling so much it made me want to hug her, but I knew it wasn't the time.

She led me toward the back of the trailer and she went into the last room at the end of the tiny hallway. Her room was immaculate. She had the bare essentials of what a room needed, a twin sized bed, a rickety dresser, a nightstand and a tiny desk. She immediately opened her closet and pulled out a duffel bag and started shoving clothes from the closet into it. I went to her dresser and started opening the drawers and emptying them into the bag as well.

All of a sudden we heard the front door slam open and the unmistakable voice of Jolene Puckett pierced through the silence.

"SAMANTHA FUCKING PUCKETT, ARE YOU IN HERE?" She screamed.

Sam looked up at me, panicked. "This was a bad idea, Freddie, you need to go."

Was she serious? Did she really think I was going to leave her here? I shook my head no and she looked like she wanted to argue with me, but that she was too scared to. I walked closer to her and took her hand and squeezed and we both watched the door as the drunken footsteps led Sam's mother closer to us.

A/N Didn't really want to leave off here, but I really want the next part to be Sam's POV, so you'll get that soon. I know…you really wanted them to do it…but we've got more life angst to deal with first. If you really want some hot smutty sex, I wrote a one shot that lets them do it. :P I may write another one soon. I like smut too, so I understand….


	15. Happy fucking birthday to me

A/N A little clarification for me because I'm inconsistent and I'm sorry. The timing of this whole shebang. In the first chapter, I mention that Sam has 4 weeks till her birthday, and a few chapters later I mention that Freddie and Sam have been together 13 days after they declare their feelings and kiss and then all of a sudden it's her birthday. This does not 4 weeks make. I apologize. If I had the time and energy, I would go back and erase any mention of specific days and weeks. It's suuuper annoying to try and make sure it all fits. I may do that later.

For the record, I wanted enough time for Sam and Freddie to fall for each other, but not so much time that it's weird for Carly to be gone so long. Which is why I liked 4 weeks at first….no idea how long it takes to record an album and stuff, so I'm totally winging it.

So, let's say for the record that they've been together almost a month, and that everything up until their big fight and Sam taking off has just been innocent kissing and flirty dates. K?

This one is pretty angsty and emo. Be warned, you won't be left feeling happy….

Thanks for all the reviews! Keep at it please, I love seeing those little email updates!  
Chapter 15

SPOV

I stood there, frozen in my tracks, with Freddie holding my hand.

"Well, well, well… look what finally showed up." My mother said condescendingly.

I swallowed thickly and lifted my chin. There was no way she'd fight me in front of an audience… I think.

"Who's this? Your fuck of the week?" She gestured toward Freddie with one finger while the rest curled around the beer can she was holding.

Freddie huffed and squeezed my hand harder.

"I'm just here to pick up some stuff. I'm legal now so I'll be out of here soon." I replied calmly, not willing to get into a verbal sparring match with her, even though I could feel the anger boiling inside me. I started putting more things into my bag, but she stopped my wrist when I went to take the iron lamp that I'd found at a garage sale. I remember thinking it would have made a great weapon in case of middle of the night necessity.

"Over my dead body. Everything in this place is MINE. You take it and I'll fucking call the cops, you little bitch!" She seethed.

It didn't take long for the anger to boil over I guess.

"YOURS? YOURS!" I screamed. "Everything in this room has been paid for a million times over! I paid for every piece of clothing! I bought the damn furniture… several times! Every time I would find a nice desk or bed frame and bring it home, it wasn't here for more than 24 hours before you would sell it for cash that I never saw!"

Her eyes flared in anger like they did whenever I dared to question or challenge her.

"You have been nothing but a useless, spoiled child since day one! You've never appreciated anything I ever did for you! My mother was right, I should have aborted you the day I found out I was pregnant with you."

The words hit me like a slap to the face. She'd said some horrible things to me before, but this cut deep.

Freddie let my hand go and stepped up closer to her, looking her dead in the eyes.

"How dare you? You don't deserve to be her mother. I don't know how Sam turned out to be such a great person, but she sure as hell didn't get any of it from you. You disgust me." He said, and spat at her feet.

My jaw dropped and I was preparing myself for the inevitable swing of her fist, but it never came.

"CHUCK!" She screamed.

I internally panicked and started darting around the room, looking for an exit strategy. Damn it! My wounds were finally finished healing! I didn't want to go through it again!

I looked over at Freddie and he hadn't moved. His posture still rigid, his fists still clenched and his eyes still fixed on my mother with the most pissed off expression I'd ever seen… on anyone.

I heard Chuck stumble down the hallway and put his arm around my mom playfully.

"Waaasssup sugar?" He asked, slurring. He followed her angry stare and looked shocked to see me and Freddie in the room.

"Ooooh Shit! Lookie what we got here? It's Sammy!" He nudged Freddie on the shoulder and Freddie moved infinitely.

"And who do we have here?" He looked at Freddie.

"His… His name's Freddie… I've been staying with him…" I stammered.

"Ahhhhhhh… so you're the one that Sam's been fucking for room and board… we figured as much, didn't we darlin'?" He said and my mom quirked a smile and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm not fucking him!" I said loudly and almost stomped my foot like a toddler.

Chuck looked visibly shocked.

"Damn Freddie! Can't close that deal? Shit! Are you gay?" He taunted.

Freddie's fists clenched even tighter, something I didn't think was possible.

"Fuck! I thought everyone could hit that! Sam spreads her legs like fucking jam on toast!" Then he threw his head back and he laughed at his own crude joke.

Faster than I thought possible, Freddie's fist connected with Chuck's nose and I heard a sickening crack. The panic welled up in me as I thought about Freddie's safety.

My mother screamed, "My god! Chuck! Are you okay?"

Chuck's laughter abruptly stopped and he put his hands over his nose, yelling a muted, "FUCKER!"

He pulled his hands away and looked at the blood on his fingers.

"Oh you're a dead man." He said low and dangerously.

"Fuck you." Freddie spat back.

Chuck swung at him and Freddie twisted out the way, only to return the swing with an uppercut to the stomach. Chuck coughed and sputtered and swung wildly, landing a blow to Freddie's back. The guys were now in the middle of my room and I moved toward the hallway to avoid getting in the way.

I didn't notice my mother disappearing to the kitchen because I couldn't look away as Freddie was landing blow after blow like an expert.

Chuck continued to throw punches at Freddie and Freddie continue to miss the bulk of them and deliver punch after punch to Chuck. Punches to Chuck's stomach, punches to Chuck's face, punches to his back. Chuck fell to the ground and Freddie stood over him, held onto his hair and punched him square in the eye, effectively knocking him out. I winched remembering the punch to the eye Chuck had given me a few short weeks ago.

All of a sudden my mother reappeared with a .45, cocked, pointing it directly at Freddie but speaking to me.

"The cops are on their way. Now that you're an adult Sam… assault is now a felony."

Much faster than her drunken reflexes could stop it, I picked up the iron lamp and smashed it over her head.

She fell into a heap on the floor, dropping the gun.

"Let's go." I said shakily.

Freddie nodded and wiped his brow, which was sweat covered. He grabbed the two duffel bags I'd filled and I held onto my lamp and got into the car.

We didn't say anything the entire ride back.

We pulled into the garage and sat in silence. It took 3 minutes and 23 seconds after he cut the engine before I completely fell apart. Everything hit me all at once. The abuse and neglect that I'd been dealing with my whole life and just dealt with. The fact that I was likely going to get arrested for assault and in the process, get my boyfriend, who was more than I deserved, arrested for it as well. The fact that my mother thought she'd have been better off aborting me. All of it just crushed me. I couldn't breathe.

"Sam!" Freddie was shouting at me and it wasn't helping.

"Sam! I need you to breathe! Sam! SAM!" He was shouting louder. It wasn't making the air come any easier. It wasn't making the tightening of my chest go away.

He got out of the car and sprinted toward the building. Figures. I'd run away from me too. Why would he want to be around someone who is clearly dysfunctional as I was? Fuck, if I were in his position, I'd of… no… I would have stayed with him. Because I loved him more than he loved me.

The pain of that realization sent me reeling again, my chest constricting even more and the air was thinner and thinner. I began to see black spots that looked like a kaleidoscope in my eyes. It was so pretty. It sort of looked like…

I came to with a start on the couch at Freddie's with his mother waving some disgusting smelling thing under my nose.

I coughed and sputtered.

"Jesus, what the fuck is that?" I said, trying to get the smell out of my nose.

Freddie's mom looked disapprovingly at me. "Language!" She admonished.

"Sorry." I mumbled.

She nodded and smoothed my hair out of my face. "How are you feeling?"

I nodded and tried to sit up. "Fine... I don't know what happened back there… like an asthma attack or something." Even though I'd never had asthma a day in my life.

"Freddie, can you give us a minute?" She asked sweetly.

I looked up to see a very concerned Freddie, whose hand was wrapped in what looked like an ice pack under white gauze. He looked at me and nodded and gave me a tiny smile. He walked over to me and placed a kiss on my forehead. I looked up at him and smiled widely, and he leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips and then went into his room.

I blushed and looked at his mother, embarrassed that she'd seen our display of affection. I noticed she was wearing a robe and I immediately felt like shit because Freddie had likely woken her up to tend to me.

"Ms. Benson, I'm so sorry I woke you up, I feel awful, it's no big deal, I must have had an allergy attack or some-"

"Sam, sweetie, you had a panic attack. It's completely understandable, with everything you've been through in the last few weeks, and today, on your birthday especially…" She held my hand in hers and talked to me in the pity voice… the one I despised.

I couldn't stand it. "DON'T!" I shouted. She looked startled and dropped my hand.

I took a breath and lowered my voice. "I appreciate everything you've done for me Ms. Benson. Truly, I do. But I can't take the pity voice. Please don't talk to me like I'm some sort of victim."

She smiled sadly. "Sam. I understand."

I made a "psshh" noise that was involuntary when anyone tried to tell me that they "understood."

Ms. Benson took a deep breath and looked toward Freddie's door. She lowered her voice.

"I understand more than you know, Sam. I grew up in that trailer park. I grew up the same way you did. I grew up wondering where my next meal was coming from, and when and why I was going to get beat up by my father."

My jaw dropped. I sat there just gaping at her, my mind completely blank.

She shifted uncomfortably. "Obviously, it's not something that many people know about nowadays. Freddie doesn't even know. But as soon as I was old enough, I got the hell out of there and never looked back. I was determined to never be like those people. To be like my parents. Obviously, I tend to overcompensate my affection with Freddie… but I guess I'd rather him feel too loved, than not at all. I think you of all people can understand that."

I nodded, understanding completely and feeling more respect for her than I'd ever thought possible.

She held my hand again. "I need you to know that you don't have to be like that. It's not set in stone that it's the way it's going to be for you. If you don't want it to be that way, then it won't."

I nodded again.

"I think you and Freddie are good for each other. You both balance the other out. You have no idea how hard it is for me to watch, but at least he chose someone that is good for him."

I smiled weakly, unsure as to what to say.

"Thank you." I finally said.

She smiled back and hugged me tightly. "Any time, Sam."

She got off the couch and knocked on Freddie's door. "All right, lover boy, you can come out now!" She said, shaking her head and heading back to her own room.

Freddie nearly sprinted out of the room and rushed to my side, sitting next to me on the couch.

"I'm so sorry I left you in the car Sam. My mom wasn't answering the phone and you weren't breathing… Jesus… you scared the shit out of me!"

Before I could say a word, his lips were pressed to mine, hard and urgent. Almost panicked. I kissed him back softly, to try and calm the urgency and soothe the panic.

I pulled my lips back to speak, but he leaned forward, not letting them go, biting my bottom lip softly with his teeth. I whimpered at the lustful kiss, but remembered that his mother was in the next room.

I cleared my throat and pushed my hands into his chest.

"Your mother is right over there, Freddie… and I'm fine now…" I whispered.

He kissed me lightly again and ran his fingers through my hair. "Good. I'm so sorry I lost my shit back there. I just… flipped out when he talked about you like that."

I laughed without humor. "Yeah, I'd say so."

I bit my lip. "What are we going to do when the cops show up here?"

He smirked. "Hey ma!" He yelled out.

Ms. Benson peaked her head out of her bedroom. "Yes?"

"Where were we all day today?" He asked conspiratorially.

"Why, you were here all day, we watched television and had a great big lunch for Sam's birthday!" She winked at me.

My mouth dropped.

"And… how did I hurt my hand?" He asked, the smirk still on his face.

She disappeared for a second and returned with a dustpan filled with pieces of a glass vase.

"Why, Freddie, you smashed this vase by accident! You really should be more careful!" She laughed.

I was still gaping, open mouth on the couch as I processed the fact that Ms. Benson was giving us an alibi. A really decent, respectable alibi. This alternate universe I was in was so bizarre.

Freddie kissed my forehead. "It's going to be just fine. Besides, that's *IF* they called the cops to begin with. Who the hell threatens someone with felony charges while they're holding them at gunpoint?"

I nodded in agreement. "Good point."

We spent the rest of the evening snuggling on the couch, watching crappy television. I was exhausted after the shitty day and really wanted to go to sleep. I was about to ask Freddie to come to sleep with me… literally sleep… but Freddie's phone rang and I knew it was Carly. But instead of feeling insecure and crappy like I had last night, I kissed Freddie on the cheek and told him to take it. He smiled at me and answered the phone, walking back to his bedroom.

I must have fallen asleep on the couch, because Freddie came out sometime later and woke me up. He looked confused and distracted.

I yawned and stretched. "What did Carly need to talk to you about?"

He shook his head. "I… She… I don't really know." He said confused.

I laughed, "What do you mean you don't know?"

"She said a lot of things that didn't make any sense." He said cryptically.

I started panicking a little.

"Like what?" I asked hesitantly.

"Well, she started telling about this guy she was seeing in L.A…" He started, and I breathed in relief a little.

"But then she said she had to break it off suddenly, because she realized something. She said she'll be home day after tomorrow and she wants to go to dinner. She said I need to bring flowers. Why would I need to bring flowers?" He asked, still sounding confused.

My heart sank. No, it lower than sank. It was my worst nightmare. Worse than black eyes from Chuck. Worse than being told I should have been aborted. I was now competing for Freddie with my best friend. And I was going to lose, because he'd always been hers.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

A/N

So…Yes, Freddie's a dumbass for not realizing that Carly is essentially telling him to take her on a date. But in his defense, he only has eyes for Sam these days and it's been YEARS and Carly has never once looked at Freddie that way.

More angst and maybe a slight lemon next chapter though…which may be fairly soon. I get to write more when hockey is on and my husband distracts me less with lemons of my own. *eyebrow wiggle*

Review if you like..PLEASE?


	16. A guys dream come true, right?

A/N

Two Chapters in one week? I must love you all! Well, that and hockey has seriously given me every other evening to myself to do as I please while I husband salivates over pucks and sticks and other ridiculousness.

I bow down to my reviewers. Seriously, you all complete me. Tear.

I don't own iCarly. I wish I did though. I would make Sam lick more than the inside of Freddie's ear….oh wait. I have.

No lemon in this chapter like I thought. Sorry. Gonna have to get your jollies elsewhere. This one's just more angst.

Chapter 16

**A guys dream come true, right?**

If I thought seeing Sam cry was going to be the most out of body experience ever I'd ever had, I was sorely unprepared for the onslaught of emotions that occurred when Sam had a nervous breakdown in my car.

I felt everything from concern and worry to guilt and anger. I felt incredibly guilty for allowing my emotions to get the better of me and start beating the shit out of that asshole, thereby making Sam's situation infinitely worse. I was angry because it was clear that her mother was bent on making her life hell. And I was concerned because I'd just had a gun pointed at me. That shit was never good.

After bringing my mom back down to the car where I'd left hysterical Sam, *I* became hysterical when I thought she was dead. She was slumped down in her seat, looking paler than I'd ever seen her. After my mom insisted that she was simply unconscious, I carried her tiny limp frame up to our place.

While she was tending to Sam, I told my mom the whole story. She barely flinched. I mean, I knew that she worked in a hospital, so she'd probably heard every sob story out there, but she didn't even blink an eye at the horrific events that had gone down today.

When I told her that the cops might be on their way to arrest me for assault, she quipped, "Why would they arrest you? You've been here with me all day fixing a nice lunch."

It took me a few minutes before I registered that she was giving us an alibi. I sighed heavily in relief. "You're right. It is her birthday."

My mom's head snapped up. "Really?"

I nodded sadly.

"Wow." She murmured to herself.

She got up, grabbed the broom and dustpan, and went into her room. A few seconds later, I heard a crash.

"You okay, Ma?" I asked, still slightly on edge from this afternoon's fight. Speaking of, my hand was fucking killing me.

She came out with a smile.

"Yes. I broke a vase… no, you broke the vase. It's why your hand looks awful."

I shook my head in disbelief. My mother, covering a crime. Unreal.

She gave me a couple of stitches over my knuckle and gave me and ice pack and wrapped the whole thing in gauze.

More relief poured over me when Sam came to. The fact that a curse word was one of the first things she uttered made me smirk. I had the overwhelming urge to kiss her and hold her, but something told me that she wouldn't want that in front of my mom. But when my mom asked me to leave the room, I couldn't just go without letting her know I was happy that she was okay. So I kissed her forehead, and she smiled so widely with those beautiful lips that I couldn't NOT taste them. I did so fairly chastely, as to not cause commotion with my mom, but truth be told I couldn't wait for her to leave so I could appreciate Sam's lips properly.

But it was clear that Sam was exhausted. Mentally and physically she'd had a really rough day, and I didn't want to push her into something physical if she wasn't in the right mindset. My dick on the other hand wasn't listening. It felt her warm little body pressed up against me on the couch and I swear it starting plotting ways that I could move in order to get some friction.

Before I could put any of those plans into action, Carly called. Sam rolled her eyes and told me to take it. She looked minutes from sleep anyway.

I took the phone into my room and answered it quickly.

"Hey Carly!" I said a little too excitedly.

"Hey." Carly said flatly.

"Um… what's up?" I asked confused.

"Um… what's up? How about I needed to tell you something important last night and you basically hung up on me after you told me you'd call me right back. And you never did!" Carly accused angrily.

Right. Fuck. Before the fight with Sam, and the amazing blow job/Sam's body explorations, and the hot dog stand, and realizing it was Sam's birthday, and the fist fight with Chuck and the gun pointed at my head, and Sam's mental breakdown, Carly had called. It'd been a busy 24 hours.

"I'm so sorry, Carly; things have been really crazy here…" I finished lamely, not sure which of that I was allowed to tell her.

"Hmmph." She pouted.

"Well, what's going on, what do you need to tell me? I've got time now." I said, relaxing on my bed, and forcing myself to stop thinking about what happened on it last night.

"I don't really know where to start." She huffed.

"Okay, well, how are Spencer and his band doing?" I asked, honestly interested.

She went into Spencer and the band and the recording contract that they'd been given, on an indie label. Spencer would have it no other way. The guys were spending most of the day rehearsing and listening to their playback, which left Carly mostly on her own. She started going out into LA and seeing the sights, having lunch and shopping by herself. While she was having fun, she was pretty lonely. I felt really bad that I'd been so caught up with Sam and I's drama, that my best friend was left feeling lonely.

"But… about a week after I got there, I met someone…" She continued.

"Oh?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah. His name's Dylan. He's the assistant to one of the producers for the record. He and got to talking and we had a lot in common, and he asked a lot about my photography stuff. It was… nice… but it was just… off. Something didn't feel right."

I hummed to indicate I wanted her to continue.

"So, anyway, we went out a few times and spent a lot of time together, and it wasn't all "friendly"… ya know… there was some… "boyfriendly" stuff going on…" She giggled.

I could just see the blush on her face. Carly could talk about sexual stuff as well as I could a couple weeks ago. Meaning, not at all.

"So… anyway, it's not that he's not cute, because he is. Totally hot. And it's not that we didn't get along. We totally did. But something was missing. And I think I've figured it out."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, intrigued, but still completely drawing a blank.

"Yes. I have. Listen, I'm going to be home the day after tomorrow. We should get dinner." She answered decisively.

"Umm… okay?" I answered back, confused.

"Okay? Okay. You come over at 6 to pick me up. Bring flowers." She replied.

"Uhhhh… Kaaay." I slurred.

"Yay! Okay, Freddie, say hi to Sam for me. See you in a few days! Bye!" She squealed.

"Yeah. Bye." I said distractedly, scratching the back of my head, and snapping the phone shut.

Wait. What? What did- Why would-

My mind was forming unfinished questions as I walked into the living room and woke up Sam. I relayed Carly's last few sentences, trying to gain some female insight as to why I'd have to bring flowers to have dinner with Carly.

Her face drained all color, and I felt panicked thinking that she was going to start hyperventilating again.

"What Sam? What is it? What's wrong?" I said, kneeling in front of her.

She looked up and gave me the saddest smile. She lifted her hand and traced my cheek and I closed eyes and leaned into her hand, just reveling in her touch.

"What did you say?" She asked.

"Umm… I dunno. I think I said sure. Or okay, or something like that… why?"

She quickly removed her hand from my cheek and brought it back quickly for a light smack. "Carly wants you to take her on a date, you dumbass." She said sarcastically, but lacking the bite that would make it truly Sam's sarcasm. This was sadder.

I looked up at her in shock.

"Noooo!" I said dismissively.

She raised her eyebrows and nodded yes.

"Yeah, that's what that means when a girl tells you to bring flowers before you go to dinner. It's a date. And you agreed to it." She giggled, still pretty sadly. "I think that makes you a pimp."

I shook my head to disagree with her. "No, it's not a date, Sam. She doesn't think of me like that." I argued.

She rolled her eyes and put on her sad smile again. "Mmm-hmmm. When should I expect the wedding invitations from the lovely couple?"

I was getting upset. She was blowing this out of proportion. It wasn't like that. Even if it WAS that way for Carly, which it wasn't, it wasn't that way for me.

"Sam, it's not a date. Even if Carly thinks it is, I don't want to date her. I have a girlfriend." I said, leaning forward to kiss her perfect lips.

She kissed me back languidly, both of us not allowing the kiss to become lustful, but sweet and affectionate.

She leaned back ran her fingers through my hair and sighed. "You're too good for me, you know that?"

I shook my head no. "No way, Samantha. You're just perfect for me, which means I'm just perfect for you too."

She opened her mouth, presumably to argue, but I cut her off.

"No arguing with me. It's your birthday and you're not allowed to fight on your birthday. Not with me. New rule."

She smiled.

"Fine. No arguing. Can the second rule be that I get pie instead of cake?"

I smiled widely and nearly skipped into the kitchen.

I placed the banana crème pie on the bar countertop and I swear she started drooling. I laughed and started getting out the forks. No need for plates with Sam.

I handed her a fork and she dug right in, moaning in appreciation with every bite. I was so proud that I had gotten something to go right for her today.

"How'd you know?" She asked her mouth full of pie.

I smiled. "Regardless of what you might think, I do know SOME things about you." I teased.

She nodded and stuffed another bite into her mouth. "Mmmmmm. It's so good. When did you buy it?"

I smiled wider. "I actually made it today. With my mom's help… while you were unconscious." I laughed.

"Wow. I really passed out, huh?" She said shaking her head. "God, I'm such a wuss."

"Yeah, you really scared the shit out of me, I thought you were dead." Suddenly, my appetite was gone; thinking about how sick and pitiful Sam looked slumped in my car.

Her eyes jumped up to mine. "Hey. I'm okay. Don't worry about me; I'm going to be just fine."

"Sam, you don't have to pretend everything is okay. Your mom pulled a gun on us today. You're boyfriend assaulted a guy. You clocked your mother with a lamp. You moved out of your house without a place of your own yet. Your mom said some really fucked up shit to you." I rubbed her hand with my thumb. "It's completely okay to freak out about any of that."

She dropped her fork, looking pissed.

"Stop talking about it Freddie. I'm fine." She said angrily.

I blanched. "I don't want to fight with you, Sam! I just mean that it's completely normal too be stressed out by-"

"I don't want to talk about it. It's over. I'm fine." She said with enough finality that if I valued my head, I was going to shut up or else it was going to be cut off my shoulders.

She pushed the plate of pie away from her.

"I'm going to bed. Thanks for the pie. It was great." She said flatly and started walking toward the front door.

"You're not staying with me tonight?" I asked, trying to hide the hurt in my voice.

She stopped her hand on the door and looked back. "It's nothing to do with you. I just want to sleep in and it's such a pain in the ass to wake up early and go across the hall to avoid your mom. I never really get back to sleep."

I nodded. If it was an excuse to get away from me for the night, at least it was a good one. That had to suck.

She went to leave and I rushed over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. "Don't end the night like this."

She snorted into my chest. "I'm not ending it like anything. I just want to get some sleep."

I sighed, knowing that I wasn't going to break through Sam's wall tonight. Defeated, I let go of her and kissed her forehead.

"Happy birthday." I whispered.

"Yeah. Thanks." She said, a little more sarcastically than I would have wished.

I watched her slam the door a little too rough behind her and ran my hands through my hair, wondering what the hell I was going to do. Instead of being proactive and thinking through it, I voided any rational thought from my head and crashed on my bed into a long, dreamless sleep.

The next morning I woke up completely clear headed. Amazing what a good night's sleep could do.

I immediately knew what I was going to do about Sam's mom. A few phone calls later, I knew we didn't have to worry about her or Chuck anymore.

The issue of Carly was entirely more complex. She was my best friend. I tried to remember how badly it would hurt when she rejected me time and time again. I hated to be on the receiving end of it, but now I understand how awful it is to be on the delivering end as well.

I mean, this should be every guy's dream come true right? Two unbelievably gorgeous, smart, funny women who wanted me. I should be in heaven! But instead my stomach was in knots. I was definitely not meant to be a manwhore. Even though it's in my DNA, I definitely take after my mother here.

There was no way Carly was going to understand why I wasn't interested in being with her romantically unless I explained Sam and me. If I were being truthful with myself, if Sam and I weren't together, I might have gone for it. Just that being with Sam enabled me to see my feelings for Carly clearly for what they were, an infatuation, not love. I wouldn't have had my epiphany about putting Carly on a pedestal, and I still would have thought that my feelings for her would have been genuine. It would have made for a disappointment of a relationship and it saved both Carly and I from certain heartbreak, one that might very well have ruined our friendship.

But I couldn't explain that to Carly. I couldn't tell her any of that without making her feel bad and questioning my relationship with Sam. This was going to be… awkward.

I decided that I would have dinner with Carly, but I would NOT be bringing flowers and we'd be going somewhere really simple and un-date like. Then I could express how much her friendship means to me and how I don't want to jeopardize it. It was the truth; it just left quite a bit out.

But I knew it was going to hurt Sam just going to dinner with Carly. I know she didn't believe me when I said I didn't have feelings for Carly. And I know Sam well enough to know that she's going to completely shut down about anything regarding Carly and me. I'm not an idiot, I know she's totally going to act the martyr role and pretend that she doesn't care and I can be with whoever I want. I need to keep reminding myself that it's just a front, a defense mechanism to show the world that she doesn't need anyone.

_But maybe it's not a front. Maybe she really doesn't care who I'm with. _My nagging subconscious thought it before I could squash the self conscious thoughts.

_If she really doesn't care if I date Carly, why not? Don't I want to see if it's a crush, or if it's legitimate?_

"SHUT UP!" I said aloud, feeling slightly insane for yelling at my own thoughts.

But I couldn't help the nagging thoughts. And they got worse.

_Carly's who I've wanted since childhood… do I really want to pass of this chance to see? Sam's got a lot of baggage… dating Carly would be so much… simpler._

I felt horrifically guilty for the thoughts that were flying in my head at the idea of dating Carly, and not Sam, but I had to admit that they were appealing thoughts.

_Carly and I were much closer than Sam and I ever were, maybe it could be even better than what Sam and I have._

At that moment, Sam opened the door and walked into the apartment.

"Hey!" I said, standing up off the couch in an incredibly guilty fashion.

She furrowed her brows. "Hey…" She said suspiciously.

She looked at the TV that wasn't on. "Whatcha doing in the living room, with no TV on?"

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Just... thinking about stuff…" I trailed off nervously, as if she could have heard the offensive thoughts in my head.

"Ummm. Okay, weirdo. I just wondered if you could pick me up after my shift? If not, it's no big deal, I just-"

"Of course I'll pick you up. I've been doing it every day you've worked since you got here, why wouldn't I today?" She hadn't asked me to pick up her up since that first week.

"I didn't know if you wanted to… after yesterday… I didn't know if anything had… changed." She trailed off, avoiding my gaze and playing with the sleeves of her shirt.

I pondered her words. Had anything changed?

I answered my own question internally and I immediately knew who I would choose.

A/N

I'm not going to tell you who he chooses. Wanna know why? Cuz I haven't figured it out quite yet. Yeah, I'm a Seddie shipper. But that doesn't mean that Freddie has figured that out yet. I will go ahead and guarantee a Seddie ending, cuz the world wouldn't be right if I had a Creddie end….but I haven't decided if he's going to dabble in the Creddie world. Thoughts? Don't hate me, guys. I just really, really like my love triangles. It makes the "right" choice at the end SOOO much sweeter. (Hello Pacey and Joey!) :P


	17. Sticky Messes

A/N I know I usually switch back and forth, but I really wanted a lemon from Freddie's point of view. And I couldn't let you go a whole chapter without knowing who he was going to pick.

This is pretty much a lemon for lemon's sake…I really wanted to add one in last chapter, but it was too angsty. So if smut is not your thang…bub-bye till next chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly. We know this because Freddie has yet to slam Sam up against the wall and give it her right. :P

Chapter 17

**Sticky messes**

**Still FPOV**

_**From last chapter:**_

_**I pondered her words. Had anything changed?**_

_**I answered my own question internally and I immediately knew who I would choose.**_

Nothing had changed. Even though I was pretty sure that Carly wanted me in the romantic sense, seeing Sam reinforced the fact that I didn't want Carly that way anymore. I only had eyes for Sam.

I was undeniably, head over heels, crazy in love with her.

She was adorably beautiful standing there awkwardly, waiting for me to say something.

I smiled at her and winked.

"Nothing's changed. You ready to go now?" I said, grabbing my keys and heading out of the apartment.

Before she got out of the car and left for work, I leaned over and wrapped my hand around her neck, pulling her face towards mine, and pushed my lips into hers. I don't know what came over me, I was just so ready to put yesterday's drama behind us and just focus on her and I again.

When I felt her tug on my hair and push her tongue into my mouth, my eyes rolled back into my head. But while her kiss was incredibly sexy, it didn't feel lustful, it felt almost… desperate.

She pulled away after a few seconds and we both sat there leaning over the center console catching our breath. She still had her fingers threaded in my hair and I was tracing my hands up and down her arms, kissing the inside of her wrists. She sighed and kissed my forehead.

"See you at six?" She asked.

I nodded and she left for work. I went home and checked my email.

**From: Fredward Benson**

**To: Fredward Benson, Jr.**

**Subject: Girlfriend?**

**Hey sport! Your mother mentioned that you have a girlfriend. Is this true? Way to go! I knew you weren't gay! Finally, my man is getting some action! I'd love to meet the chick some time. Say the word and I'll set it up. I'll bring a date, we can double. Let me know!**

**Dad**

Ick.

Ick. Ick. Ick.

My face grimaced in disgust. I started up a reply.

**From: Fredward Benson, Jr.**

**To: Fredward Benson**

**Subject: No way in hell**

**No way in hell would I ever introduce you to her. She'd….**

I stopped typing and my face curled up in a devious smile. Sam would fucking eat him alive, and spit out the pieces. She'd probably enjoy it too. I was morbidly curious to see this shit go down.

**From: Fredward Benson, Jr.**

**To: Fredward Benson**

**Subject: Set it up**

**I'd love for Samantha (Sam) to meet you. I literally can't wait for you two to meet. It might be better if we eat in, maybe get one of the girlfriends you have to cook instead of going out to a restaurant.**

**Is Friday good? We're free if you are.**

**Freddie**

It sort of made my day to think of all the things Sam would say to him. I was giddy. I mean, at least I was merciful enough to tell him to make dinner at his place so that he could avoid Sam's wrath in public.

I spent some time in the afternoon cleaning the apartment, and setting my room for a romantic evening. I placed a couple of giant candles that my mom kept in the living room on my night stand and even went so far as to put a sheer piece of red fabric over the lamps. I felt incredibly gay, but I hoped that Sam would appreciate the gesture and not torture my relentlessly about it.

I was still going back and forth on the idea of telling Sam I was in love with her. I didn't want to do it in a cheesy way, since that was just sooo not Sam, but I didn't want it to just come up in casual conversation either. It was really difficult to make it romantic, but not overly so. One might say it was impossible. Every possible idea I had either sounded corny, or not romantic enough.

Then it dawned on me.

Food. The way to Samantha Puckett's heart was food. I finally decided that I was going to make her dinner. Well, "make" is a loose interpretation. I was going to put together dinner for Sam. I called all her favorite places and got her favorite things. Ribs from Jones BBQ, fried chicken from Ezell's Fried Chicken, spicy curly fries from Teddy's, the list went on. I spent about two hours just driving around town and picking it all up, then rushing it home and setting it all out. My mom quirked an eyebrow when she saw me in the kitchen with the enormous spread on the counter, with me frantically thinking of ways to keep it all warm so that I wouldn't have to microwave a ton of different dishes when I got back.

"Freddie Darling, Are we feeding an Army or having Sam over for dinner?" She asked, amused.

"Ha ha. I just wanted to do something nice for Sam, since her birthday was so shi-… terrible." I finished, grimacing over the fact that I nearly swore in front of my mother.

She simply shook her head. "So, dad emailed me that you are letting him meet Sam this weekend."

I nodded.

"Do you really think it's a good idea that she meets your father? He's a bit abrasive, and Sam's well… Sam." She said hesitantly.

I smiled. "I know."

"Oh, Fredward. Don't tell me you set it up on purpose to see her tell him off, did you?" She said frustrated.

I simply shrugged, refusing to incriminate myself.

She scoffed and marched off to the front door to leave for work. "You're playing with fire here, Freddie. Yes, Sam will give him a spoonful of his own medicine, but what do you think he'll come back with? Endless praise and compliments? You know how mean and spiteful he can be? Do you think she deserves that?" She asked sarcastically and slammed the door behind her.

Shit. I hadn't thought of that.

Well I could always flake out on dinner. He'd done it to me a thousand times. That might be enough of his own medicine to get him off my back for a while.

I had the table set up perfectly and the food was ready to be served, so I went off to pick up Sam.

She looked downright exhausted when I got to the diner. No, exhausted wasn't the right word. It didn't look like she needed sleep. It looked like she'd had enough of LIFE for a while. I was happy that I'd thought of my brilliant romantic evening in, and I hoped she'd like it just as much. And I didn't really want to admit it, but I *really* wanted a repeat of the other night. The one where she and I were naked. Good times.

"Hey beautiful!" I said, pulling her into a hug.

"Hey." She said and hugged me tightly, and I felt a taste of that desperation that I'd felt earlier in our kiss. It caught me off guard.

"Umm… you ready to go?"

"Yeah, yeah, just let me grab my stuff."

We were on our way back to my apartment when she reached across the console and grabbed my hand. It wasn't a completely foreign gesture, but it was odd. While Sam enjoyed touching me, and I her, we certainly weren't the couple that needed to hold hands constantly.

I wasn't a complete idiot. I got what she was doing. I know she thought she was going to "lose" me to Carly tomorrow. But I also knew that there wasn't anything I could say to quell those fears for her. My actions would have to show her. She'd see that Carly and I would stay friends and that was it.

I decided then and there that I wasn't going to tell her I loved her tonight. It would mean more to her after Carly was back. Then she could be sure that I wasn't just saying that because Carly wasn't in my life at the moment to "compete" with her.

We got back to the apartment and I pulled out the blindfold that I put in my back pocket before I left.

She raised one eyebrow in suspicion.

"Just trust me." I said.

She huffed and allowed me to cover her eyes and lead her inside.

"Ok, sit down right here, don't move. Don't peak. And try to breathe through your mouth."

"What?" She said, confused.

"Just… don't breathe through your nose. I don't want the smell to give it away." I said.

"This better be a GOOD smell you're trying to surprise me with, Fredward." She said warningly.

I laughed. "I hope so."

It took a few minutes to heat everything up and I placed the extensive meal on the table as quietly as possible. I slipped back to the bedroom and lit the candles and made sure the lights were on under the darkened fabric. I'll admit. It looked pretty damn good. When everything was in place, I untied her blindfold and watched as her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

"Oh My God!" She exclaimed.

I smiled broadly.

"Are those Jones ribs? Omg, they are… fuck me. You got chicken from Ezell's... and…" She gasped. "No fucking way! A Redmill cheeseburger… Teddy's fries… and… is that… is that…"

She was seriously getting emotional over food. It was hysterical and borderline psychotic. I was laughing heartily at her response and thrilled that I could get this much of an emotional response from her.

"Yes, Sam, it's Galini's cheesecake."

She covered her mouth and I swore I saw tears.

I laughed harder.

"Well, I guess I know what I need to do if we ever get into a fight. Flowers are not gonna cut it for you, are they?" I chuckled.

She lowered her hand from her mouth and gaped at me.

"This must have taken forever! And cost you a fortune!" She exclaimed.

I shrugged. "You're worth it."

Yeah, it did take a while, and cost a pretty penny, but it really was worth it. Seeing her get choked up like I'd bought her diamonds or something… it was totally worth it.

We dug in and polished off more food than I thought humanly possible. Where she kept it all was beyond me. She was so petite and tiny, she must have the metabolism of a humming bird. I, on the other hand was going to have to punish myself, quite harshly on the treadmill next time I went to the gym.

"So, while I appreciated that… so much… I do have to ask… what was the occasion?" She asked softly, once all the leftovers were put away and the dishes were done.

"I just wanted to do something nice for you, Sam. You deserve it." I shrugged it off. It still bothered me how much she doubted my motivation to do or say anything nice to her. Even if part of my motivation was to get her to make out with me some more, she really did deserve it.

"Oh, okay." She hesitated. "I thought it was the "Sam version" of a romantic dinner. I thought this was your way of putting me in the mood and get me naked." She chuckled.

I felt my face heat up. Damn. Busted.

While it certainly wasn't my main motivation, I did hope that it would have been a fringe benefit.

"Oh My God! Freddie Benson! You tried to seduce me with ribs!" She laughed.

I grumbled embarrassed, trying to deny it, but not convincing anyone.

She laughed harder, "Well, if anything is going to seduce me, it's red meat." She continued to joke.

I panicked a little, wondering how bad she was going to torture me when she saw my bedroom. I needed to think of a way to get back there and take everything down before she saw.

She started heading back to my bedroom just then and a wave of terror came over me. She was either going to tease me relentlessly or she was going to slap the shit out of me for being so presumptuous.

"Where are you going?" I shouted.

"Umm… to use the bathroom." She tilted her head, "Is that okkayyy?" She emphasized the last word and we both smiled thinking back to that first night I stayed with her in Carly's room. I was caught up in the memory of the day our whole relationship changed that I didn't stop her before she opened my door.

"Wait!" I shouted, but I was too late.

Sam stood at my door with her mouth dropped open.

_Please don't hit me. Please don't hit me._

I had one eye shut and was barely peaking through my other one, like a little kid who doesn't want to see a horror movie but can't look away.

She turned to face me. "You really were trying to seduce me with ribs." She repeated incredulously.

Well, she didn't hit me. That's a step in the right direction. Time for damage control.

"I was just trying to give you… us… a romantic evening. You didn't seem the type for a fancy restaurant, but I didn't know how to make this" and I gestured to the bedroom, "into a "Sam version". I'm sorry if it's over the top, and I didn't mean anything by it." I started rubbing the back of my neck, nervous and stuttering. "I mean, it-it's not like I don't want it to happen, but I-I just didn't mean to be presumptuous. I mean, if you want to go sleep at Carly's, or just stay in the living room and watch TV, that's fine… I mean, of course it's fine, I don't want you to think you have to... because..."

Her lips started twitching into a smile, and she was biting her lip, clearly enjoying my embarrassing rant.

"You're enjoying the hell out of my embarrassment, aren't you?" I said, fairly sure that I couldn't get any redder.

She nodded and stepped on her tiptoes to kiss me. I relaxed and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her body flush against mine. She felt so good. Kissing her felt so good. I wanted her. I wanted her in my bed. I wanted her naked. Now.

"Sam…" I whispered in between kisses.

"Hmm…" She murmured.

I kissed her jaw, licking the spot behind her ear and sucking her earlobe into my mouth, biting down on it softly. She whimpered and pushed her body into me further. I groaned and whispered in her ear,

"Are you just fucking with me… or do you want to come in and shut the door?"

She moaned and pushed me into my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her with her foot.

I chuckled, "Guess there's my answer."

She didn't say a word, but just gently pushed me back toward my bed. I felt it hit the back of my knees and I held onto her waist and we both toppled down on top of it.

Her hair fell around us like a curtain and we just stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like eternity.

"…So beautiful, Samantha." I said softly.

She closed her eyes and kissed my lips gently, then my chin, the hollow of my neck, my collarbone, my shoulder and back up to my lips again. It felt worshipful.

"Thank you." She whispered.

I rolled to her on her back and got off the bed, leaning down to take off her shoes.

"I thought I said you couldn't come to bed with this uniform on?" I said teasingly.

She smirked. "I guess you'll just have to take it off, won't you?"

My breath caught in my chest. God damn, she was so fucking sexy.

"Ya know," she said as I was peeling off her socks and tracing her calves lightly. "I could probably use a shower."

"Oh… yeah, of course. I'll wait." I stood up and pulled her hands so she was standing.

She was biting her lip and looking incredibly shy.

"You… you could come in with me… if you wanted…" She said, looking anywhere but my face.

Holy fucking shit. I nearly came in my pants at the thought of wet, soapy Sam. Wet, soapy, naked Sam. Sam pressed up against the tiles with my hands on her… Fuck.

I nodded furiously. "S'go. Now."

Jesus. I was reduced to caveman responses. Me want naked woman in shower.

We got into the bathroom and I started up both shower heads. Finally, a real reason to use them both, not just an extra shower head to keep my dick warm while I was washing my hair. Something told me my dick would be plenty warm, even without the shower head. I turned around to see Sam fiddling with her sleeves. It was still beyond adorable that she was bashful around me.

I decide to lead by kicking off my shoes and socks and pulling my shirt over my head.

She blushed a little and took a step closer. I gasped when her hands touched my naked chest. She just felt so damn good. She traced her hands over my pecs and leaned in and kissed the middle of my chest. My dick was throbbing under my jeans and I was desperate to release the tension.

She leaned in and kissed my neck, sucking gently and biting my ear.

"Freddie…" She said reverently, as she ran her nails down my stomach lightly and started undoing my belt.

My breaths were coming out in short pants. "Yeah.."

"I need to you help me get out of this dress." She purred.

Was it fucking possible to die from an erection being too hard? I was testing the limits of jean construction with those words.

She turned around and brushed her ass against my crotch. Very purposefully. I was not complaining. Though I might have growled.

I brushed her hair over her shoulder and kissed the spot where her neck and shoulder met. I felt her shiver beneath my lips and she let out a sexy whimper.

Fucking gorgeous.

I pulled down her zipper slowly and kissed every inched of skin as it became exposed to me. I knelt as I got lower and I could see her back arch as I kissed her lower back, right above her panty line.

Fucking gorgeous.

I heard her mutter, "Fuck" and it made me nip the skin there, causing her to moan loudly.

I reached up and slipped the sleeves down her arms and the dress fell to the floor at her feet. I ran my hands up her back and unhooked her bra, and pushed the straps down her arms, watching that fall to the floor as well. Then Sam stood, with her back still to me, in nothing but beautiful blue lace boyshorts. I bit my lip as I noticed the perfect amount of ass cheek that stuck out, and I lowered my hands to her calves, and then up the back of her knee, over her thighs until I was cupping that gorgeous ass in my hands. It was perfect. Supple and firm.

Fucking gorgeous.

I stood up and my hands traced around her hips over her tiny waist, feeling the soft skin of her flat belly, and finally to cup those perfect, firm soft breasts.

Fucking gorgeous.

She giggled, "Okay, you think I'm fucking gorgeous. I get it."

Holy shit. I'm saying that out loud.

"Sorry. I didn't realize I was saying stuff out loud." I mumbled.

She hummed and pushed her breasts into my hands, reminding me what I was doing.

I pulled her closer to me and peered over her shoulder at her breasts in my hands. Fuck, the sight had me ready to explode.

I kneaded and caressed while her ass pushed harder into my jean covered crotch. I kissed her neck and her hands slipped behind her and pressed into me. I shuddered as she flicked the button of my jeans and pulled the zipper down. I was seriously impressed with her ability to undo pants behind her back.

I released her breasts and pushed down my pants, breathing heavily in relief that the confines of the jeans were gone. All that was left were my boxers and those pretty little blue panties.

She turned to face me, and the look she gave me, sweet and sexy at the same time, biting her lip shyly as she watched me with her lustful eyes, as she bent and pulled her panties down, then stepping out of them… gah… it was too much.

I brought my hand to my dick, needing some sort of friction or I was going to fucking lose it.

Before I could think about if that would make her feel awkward or not, I looked at the lust on her face as she watched me touch myself and she licked her lips seductively.

"God Damn, Samantha. I want you so much." I said and pulled her toward me again.

She wrapped her arms around me and I moaned when I felt her warm sex come in contact with my thigh.

Her breath was shaky and she was trembling. She cleared her throat.

"I think we should get into the shower."

I nodded and peeled off my boxers without ceremony.

We both went to our respective shower heads and I watched the water run down her body, watched as she ran her hands over her body, and watched as she washed her hair.

She turned away from me, lifting her face into the stream of the water and rinsed out the conditioner, allowing her hair to flow down her back. She turned around and leaned her face to the ceiling, while I felt the warm water to flow over my face and body, letting it relax me, while at the same time, the anticipation of touching her, or having her touch me simultaneously tensed me.

About a minute later, I couldn't take watching her any longer. I reached out, pulling her body against mine. The conditioner rinsed from her hair made my cock slippery against her and I moaned at the contact. I rocked against her ass and leaned in and kissed her neck and nibbled on her earlobe.

"Fuck. That feels so good, Samantha." I huskily groaned into her ear.

She moaned in response, pushing her ass further into me.

My fingers traced up and down her body and I ran my hands down her arms and lifted them over her head, all the while nudging her forward with my body. I continued kissing her ear and licked down her neck while I rubbed my dick rhythmically against her body.

Eventually her face was nearly against the far shower wall and I pushed her hands to rest against it, still over her head. I ran my hands down her arms and over her back, gently caressing the swell of her hips and giving her ass a firm squeeze.

"So beautiful, Samantha." My voice sounded strained.

She arched her back and looked over her shoulder at me admiring her body.

My eyes hesitantly met hers and in a small voice said, "Please, Freddie, Please."

Ah, but I wanted to tease. I smirked. "Please what?" I ran my hand over her ass again and let it trace down toward her inner thigh.

She turned her head and sighed and allowed her eyes to flutter closed.

_Please talk dirty for me, Sam._

"Please touch me, Freddie." She pleaded, almost begging.

"Oh, but I already AM touching you Samantha..." My voice was teasing.

_Oh please, please Sam. I will be your slave forever. Just a couple of dirty words and my life would be complete._

"Is there somewhere SPECIFIC you want me to be touching you?" I could feel the permanent smirk on my face.

At that moment, my fingers slipped into her hot core and she bucked her hips, her motions begging for more, but I quickly removed them and continued tracing her hips and ass.

Her embarrassment gone, and her lust in full force, she looked over her shoulder again, and nearly shouted, "Freddie, please, please make me come."

My smirk dissipated and I licked my lips. My fingers dipped in between her thighs and I flicked my fingers over her clit, making her knees buckle and she screamed loudly.

"Is this what you want, Sam?" I whispered in her ear, as my fingers deftly worked her clit faster and faster. God I was so glad I paid attention last time.

"Yes... uhhh… God, yes. Just like that. UNGH… You know just how to touch my pussy."

I couldn't believe how much Sam saying that word turned me on. "FUCK, Sam, I love it when you talk like that." I responded by grinding my rock hard cock against her ass. Wishing more than anything that we were further along in the relationship where it'd be okay to just bend her over in this shower and fuck her properly. But that's not how I wanted our first time to be. I wanted it to be special and fueled by love, not insane fucking lust. Because this shit was fucking insane.

My fingers worked harder and faster and I snaked my other hand around her body and roughly fondled her breast, pinching and caressing her nipples alternately.

Her breaths were coming faster and faster and her moans were louder and less coherent. I could feel her tightening up, as I worked my fingers faster and faster.

"You're close, aren't you Sam? Fuck, I can feel it. Jesus Christ, baby, so fucking sexy." I groaned the last words so quietly; I don't think she even heard them. They were mostly for me

"Unngh, yes, yes Freddie, so close. You're going to make me come."

Remembering that last time, she was so close and seemed to need a little push, I leaned into her neck and kissed it gently, bit her earlobe, then said in a sweet but authoritative voice, "Sam, come for me, please…"

Fuck me silly, nothing was sexier than watching that girl come. Her eyebrows knit together and she chewed on her lip. Her jaw dropped and my hand gripped her breast tightly, while working her clit and pussy in harmony. She spasmed around my fingers over and over, while crying out my name, and several expletives.

As she came down from her orgasmic high, my ministrations slowed until I finally released her body.

Full of confidence and sexual energy, she looked back at me, smirked and said, "So, now I guess it's your turn?"

I may have growled in response again. Unfortunately the water was running colder by the second.

We turned off the water and dried each other off, Sam paying close attention to my genital region with the towel. I kept flexing my hips towards her and trying my damnedest to beat back the hormones till I could get us lying down in bed.

She lay on the bed, completely naked, and I continued to appreciate her gorgeous body.

I leaned back on my heels and push her legs apart. She leaned back on her elbows, and my eyes raked over her pert breasts, her erect nipples, her taut belly, her smooth legs. I saved the best for last. As my eyes focused on her pussy, she shifted, uncomfortably.

I looked up at her face and she was looking around the room, obviously embarrassed.

"Sam, please don't be embarrassed. Please? You are gorgeous. So fucking sexy. I can't even…" I got choked up at the idea of trying to explain what she was doing to me.

She smiled and tentatively reached her hand out to my chest, tracing the plane of my pecs and trailing lower to my abs. I shivered under her touch.

She grabbed me pulled me on top of her; bring my mouth to hers and kissing me hard and deep. She ran her hands through my hair and pulled slightly and I groaned into her mouth, while pushing my hips closer to her. A reflex reaction, but one with magnificent effects. She was so hot. My head was literally spinning with desire and I was focusing on breathing so I wouldn't pass out. How embarrassing would that be?

She pushed her tongue into my mouth and our tongues caressed while my hands held on to her naked waist. She relaxed the kisses to the point where they were sweet, affectionate, and chaste. She kissed up to my ear, before biting it and whispering, "So, what do you want?" She asked teasingly.

I was at a loss for words. Is it polite to ask for a blow job? How does one go about asking for that?

"I... I dunno… whatever you want to do…"

Her eyes closed and her mouth opened slightly and she licked her lip. She threw her leg over my hip and rolled her hips into mine, moaning and causing me to grind back, my hands slipping to her hips to control the motion. It was beyond anything I could imagine. So much better than anything I've ever done to myself. And it was fucking killing me to know that all it would take is a little hip thrust on my part and I could be inside of her.

She opened her eyes and looked into mine, "So it's still okay that I can do that for you, too? Make you come, I mean." She said, biting her lip and writhing her hips slowly.

"Are you fucking kidding? What the fuck kind of question is that?" I answered, before my filter could kick in.

She smirked and I rephrased, "Sorry, I have no filter when you're doing that. Yes. Yes I want that very much…" I purred.

She reached down and wrapped her little hand around dick, squeezing and stroking softly. Fucking heaven.

"I… I don't really know what to do." She replied, biting her lip and looking embarrassed.

I choked on my own breath before replying, "That's perfect, what you're doing… so good."

She continued stroking me up and down while I thrusted my hips into her hand. She hummed a little before her own breath started hitching. "What… What does it feel like Freddie?"

Shit, she was asking me for coherent thoughts.

"So… intense… warm… heaven…" I said, before kissing her, pushing my tongue into her mouth. She moaned and all of a sudden, I felt her push my dick closer to her wet heat between us.

I stopped thrusting, not trusting myself not to push into her if her hot, wet pussy, was just… right fucking there.

"Sam…" I warned shakily. "I'm not ready for that…"

"I know. Freddie, I'm not saying we should do that… I was just … Can I…" She trailed off, like she was embarrassed.

"What? What do you want? Anything else…" I said shakily, my hands threatening to give out on top of her.

"I… I want to come… using you... like you used your fingers… on my clit..." She whispered, her eyes squeezed shut like she was scared of the answer.

My breath washed her over face as it came gusting out of my chest. The girl wanted to masturbate using me as her dildo. My god. This girl was my dream girl. Literally. I literally had this fantasy with Sam.

"Yeah! Yeah! Unn… k… if u wanna… I… yeah." Aaaand we're back to caveman syllables.

She looked up at me, surprised that I'd said yes so quickly and enthusiastically.

"You stop me if it's too much okay?" She asked sweetly.

"You too…" I warned.

She nodded and took my dick in her hand again and led me to her wet heat. I let out a gust of air again and reveled in the sensations that were taking over my body. Her warm hand still stroking and the head of my dick rubbing over her silky folds. She started making those delicious moaning sounds and the stroking became rougher. I lowered one of my hands to her hip and I started thrusting up, creating more friction for both of us. I wanted her to come, but there was no time, my orgasm was too imminent.

I closed my eyes and allowed the blissful sensation to take over. "Fuck, Sam, I'm gonna come!" I cried out. "Fuck… I'm coming right now… God Damn…" I shouted and moaned through the second most intense orgasm of my life, floating on air until I came back down to earth, rolling us to our sides.

Sam was smiling and I looked down the sticky mess between us. "I'm sorry, baby." I began.

Sam frowned. "Baby?" and then smirked.

I shrugged. "What? I can't call you baby?"

She laughed. "You can, it just sounds a little weird. I think I could get used to it though." We lay there, wrapped up in each other for a few more minutes. "What are you sorry for?" She asked.

"Well, for one, making this mess that we need to clean up. I think I understand the appeal of blowjobs now. They contain the mess."

She giggled again, "Only if you got a girl who's willing to swallow."

I smiled, "Which I do. Go me."

She smiled. "Yes. Go you. Don't bother giving props when props are due."

"Hey, I think I fill my end of the bargain pretty well." I defended. "Except that was the other reason why I was apologizing. I tried to hold off until you could... ya know… but it just happened too quickly."

"What do you mean?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Well, ya know, just now in bed, I was trying to last until you could… ya know… but I don't think you did. You didn't make the face." I insisted.

She looked amused. "Oh really? I have a "face"?"

"Well, yeah, you get a look of pure concentration, and you chew on your lip." I said.

"Interesting… well, for your information, I did… "ya know"… but I don't think you noticed in your own orgasmic bliss." She said sarcastically.

"Really?" I asked, impressed that I was able to give her two orgasms in one night. Just call me Dr. Love.

"Yeah… I was pretty close, and then you said you were coming and you made YOUR face, and I just burst. Good times." She said, kissing my chest.

I laughed. "Yes. Good times."

After a quick clean up, I realized how close I was to coming inside Sam.

"Sam… are you worried at all about my "boys" getting that close to being inside you? I think I remember you can get pregnant that way… Is this something I should be worried about too?" I asked, starting to get a bit panicked.

She shook her head. "No. You don't need to worry about it."

She didn't say anything else and I jutted my head forward. "And WHY don't I need to worry?"

She huffed. "I'm on the pill, okay? I didn't want to tell you because then you'd think that I was expecting us to have sex, and obviously I'm expecting it eventually, but I just wanted to make sure that we were fine and I didn't want us to have to worry about it when the time came, okay?"

Wow. Sam. Responsible Sam. Huh.

"Okay." I said, smiling like an idiot at the fact that Sam was really prepared for us to have sex.

I threw on a t-shirt and boxers and threw a set to her.

"Ya know, I do have pajamas now that I grabbed stuff from home." She said teasingly before we got back in bed and snuggled under the blankets.

"But I know how much you love it when I wear your clothes." She whispered.

"You just love giving me a hard time." I replied.

"Yeah. I know. But you love me." She retorted sarcastically.

"Mmm-hmmm." Was my response. And I really, truly did.

A/N

Soooo….anyone need a cigarette? I know I do. Hubby will be getting lucking tonight :P I apologize in advance if there are excessive grammar and spelling errors in this chapter. It's 10:45 and I figure you guys would rather have another chapter sooner than to have a grammatically correct one a day later. Right? Right?

Alas, not all will be smooth sailing for these two, but I promise to keep the lemons hot and the angst hotter. :P

Review if I made you need a change of underwear :P


	18. Emotions

A/N So, guess what people? I got me a BETA! Know what that means? Well, hopefully it means that you'll see less of "my and me" confusion, as well as "I and his". I'll let you in on something. I'm not that good at writing sexy scenes from the first person, so I tried a search and replace for the words "Him, his, and he". I missed several in the last chapter and I cringed when I spotted them….SOOOO Aussiemma has graciously agreed to be my Beta and work the kinks out of my script, though I suspect that she mostly just wants first dibs at the story. :P

Anywhooo. So…Carly and Spencer come back this chapter! Ummm…yay? You're all not excited are you? Sigh. Well, you need to get prepared because I think I'm making the next chapter Carly POV.

Chapter 18

Emotions

SPOV

I didn't sleep a wink. Not even a little. I watched Freddie sleep and felt his warm embrace as he held me tight in his arms. How was I supposed to let this go? How was I supposed to let my best friend have him and not be bitter about it? I knew it was pointless to stop it or to fight for him, and there wasn't anything Freddie could say to change my mind. I saw how he looked at her for the last 5 years. Shit like that doesn't change in a month.

And as the night wore on, I felt as if I was saying goodbye. It was probably for the best anyway. He was leaving for college in a few months, and I was most likely staying here and working for Lou for the rest of my life. We had no real future together anyway. He was so much better off with Carly, and I was glad that he allowed me to show him how much he meant to me last night.

I would have had sex with him. I was ready, I was willing, I was able. I knew that I couldn't say the words "I love you", but I so desperately wanted to make love to him and show him through my actions. But I didn't think that was fair to complicate the situation even more with the "L" word. As far as he knew, I was just having a good time… a REALLY good time. I mean, I knew that I meant SOMETHING to him, I'm not that delusional to think he was using me or anything like that, but I also knew that I'd never compare to her. And as long as she was available and wanting to date Freddie, I would always pale in comparison.

The sun was starting to come up, but I stayed in his bed a little longer than I normally did, wanting to relish what was likely the last time we'd be together in his bed, and I kissed his forehead, silent tears running down my face as I said my silent goodbye. I slipped out of his bed and crept out of his bedroom, quietly closing the door behind me. I turned around and came face to face with Ms. Benson walking in the apartment.

I opened my mouth, ready to give an excuse as to why I was coming out of her son's room at 6am, but she put her hand up, indicating that I shouldn't say a word.

"Don't…" She said. "I don't need to know. You're both adults, I don't need to know."

I shut my mouth and nodded.

"You're crying." She said. "What happened?"

I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it.

She sighed. "Boy trouble?" She said with her eyebrows raised.

I shook my head again, "No, No, No." I paused. "Well, not really." I peaked up at her to gage her reaction.

She huffed. "Me too. Come sit with me in the kitchen, I'll make us some breakfast."

I should have left the apartment. Something told me that opening up to Ms. Benson was dangerous "girlfriend" like territory. The kind of territory that I was trying not to get used to. The kind of territory that was going to be even harder to let go of when I had to let Freddie go.

But being able to talk to someone that would really listen to me was so appealing. And let's face it; I was in desperate need of a mother figure in my life, even if it was only temporary.

I sat at the breakfast bar and watched as she buzzed around the kitchen, collecting ingredients to make what looked like an extensive batch of omelets. She started cracking the eggs into the bowl and looked over at me. "So, things aren't going perfectly with Freddie, huh?" She asked.

I shifted uneasily. Maybe this was a mistake.

"Sam, I understand he's my son, but he's also his father's son as well. Lord knows that man isn't perfect…"

Now this topic, I was interested in.

"What can you tell me about his dad? Freddie doesn't like to talk about him." Ms. Benson was quiet for a beat and I felt like I was intruding.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I was just curious." I said, hoping that the morning could stop being so awkward, or that I could find a good way to escape… but I really didn't want to leave without an omelet.

"No, it's just that, I still have a lot of issues with him. I… We divorced 5 years ago, when he wanted to be with his secretary, Bimbo Barbara, I liked to call her." She said, her voice filled with emotion.

"I'm sorry." I whispered.

"Yeah. Well, it was pretty awful. Especially since I told him he could continue seeing her if he wanted, I was willing to overlook it." She continued.

"You what?" I asked, surprised.

She shrugged. "I said, "For better or worse" and I meant it. I was willing to do whatever I had to do in order to keep my family together." She answered, as if it were obvious.

I was dumbfounded. This cannot be what marriage is. Marriage is supposed to be about love and respect, not staying together because "you promised".

"So, anyway, he and I divorced and Freddie has never really forgiven him for leaving us…. or for the way that he spends his time with Freddie… or doesn't, as the case may be." She shook her head in disapproval.

"I don't blame him. The harems of women that hang around his father are ridiculous. He's quite the ladies man these days apparently. Never with the same girl twice, Freddie says." She said this last statement with enough jealousy in her tone to drown a fish.

"I… I still date him every once in a while." She admitted softly.

My eyes bugged out of my head. "You date the man-whore." I said, before I could stop myself, throwing my hand over my mouth.

She smiled softly. "This is why I told Freddie you can't meet him this Friday." She laughed and started cooking the eggs.

"This Friday?" I asked, unsure of what she meant.

"Freddie didn't tell you? He may have changed his mind; he told me that his father asked you two over to his place for dinner for a double date on Friday. Though I suspect that Freddie only said yes to see you spar with his father…. I'll admit the idea is very entertaining." She smiled again.

I sat back, a little proud that Freddie wanted to introduce me to his father and a little insulted that he just wanted me to tell him off. But I ignored that aspect of the conversation for a minute.

"Are you two dating now?" I asked, wondering if the double date was with her.

She laughed. "No. No." She sipped her coffee and flipped the eggs expertly. "We don't date… publicly."

I cringed a little, understanding her implication. They just slept together. Ew.

"Can I ask you something?" I hedged.

She nodded.

I thought for a minute, choosing my words carefully.

"I know I don't know your history, but why do you continue to…. "see him" if he obviously treats you so badly?" I asked.

She sighed and turned the burner off and slid the eggs onto a plate in front of me.

"I know I can't expect you to understand this. You're so young and so inexperienced with life… and I don't mean that condescendingly…" She paused.

"But… I'll always love him. He'll always have this giant piece of my heart and... when it comes to him…" She shrugged. "I just take what I can get."

I nearly laughed at the similarities between us. Sure, there were numerous things about her that were soooo the opposite of me in every way, but the way she regarded herself, as someone not worthy of respect and love and a real relationship, I wondered if I was looking at a version of myself in twenty years.

"Ms. Benson-" I started.

"Call me Marissa please. I think we're a little past formality, what with you leaving my son's bedroom in the wee hours of the morning and me telling you about my relationship with his father…" She said sarcastically.

"Fine. Marissa. Can I give you some advice? I know it might be hard to listen to advice from someone who is dating your son…"

She smiled, "I promise I'll have an open mind."

"You don't think you are worthy of being loved. I can say that since you grew up the same way I did. I know that you spent your whole life thinking that you're not good enough for what you really want. That you'll take what you can get because it's what you deserve." I said.

She looked shocked.

I sucked in a breath and continued, "I know because I feel…. no… felt the same way…. and it was your son who finally helped me see that I deserved to be with someone amazing, who treated me like a freaking princess." My voice started shaking, and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

"I still don't think that I am as deserving of him as he thinks I am, but he is trying his damnedest to erase the damage that has been done." The tears were coming to the surface and I knew I needed to end my speech so I could go cry in privacy.

"So... I guess what I'm trying to say, is that… maybe you need to take the same advice that your son has given to me." I finished, tears escaping from my eyes.

I wiped them quickly, and Ms. Benson grabbed the tissues. I was about to wave her off and tell her I didn't need one, when I realized that she was grabbing a tissue for herself and dabbed her own eyes, sniffing deeply before letting out a gigantic sob.

Once she started crying, there was no need to worry about my own tears coming back, I was panicking. What the hell had I done? She continued to sob hysterically and I hopped off my barstool, coming into the kitchen and awkwardly rubbing her back.

"What…What can I do? Should….. should I have not said anything? I'm sorry; I didn't mean anything by it…" I stammered, wondering how shitty it would be if I just went and got Freddie and slipped out the front door.

She sniffed and turned into me for a hug. Now I was beyond feeling awkward. And beyond panicking. Her cries subdued a little. "No, no, no. You're right. You're so right. He just uses me and I just let him… I just let him because…." And then she trailed off and the crying intensified.

I heard Freddie's door fly open and he rushed into the kitchen.

"Ma?" He asked, concerned.

She sniffed and released me from her embrace. Thank god. I mean, I was glad she could confide in me and everything, but I don't do random emotional outbursts.

She turned to Freddie and wiped her eyes. "I'm so sorry sweetheart, did I wake you?"

He shook his head, "Don't worry about that? Are you okay?" He asked her and glanced over at me, asking me the same question with his eyes.

I nodded and she replied, "Oh yes, I'm absolutely fine. Just getting some free therapy with Sam here." She sniffed again.

Freddie raised his eyebrows in surprise and nodded cautiously. "Okay…. everything's all right though?" He verified.

We both nodded and he let out a breath. "Okay… Hey, are those omelets?"

She nodded and turned to cook them while Freddie told her what he wanted in his.

I used the distraction as an opportunity to escape, kissing Freddie on the cheek and throwing Ms. Benson, (I couldn't get used to the idea of calling her Marissa… even in my head) a wave goodbye, I slipped out of the apartment and into Carly's.

I threw myself into cleaning the apartment and was presumptuous to set up my stuff in the guest bedroom. I'd slept in it once, when Carly and I were younger, the first time I spent the night at her house, but after half an hour, I snuck into her bedroom and we ended up giggling until the wee hours of the morning. I never attempted to sleep in the guest bedroom again.

I was sure that Spencer and Carly would let me stay here until I found my own place. I had enough money for a deposit and first and last month's rent. I mean, I'd been saving up for over two years, the problem was finding a place that I would be able to afford once the savings ran out. Real estate ain't cheap buddy.

Maybe, if Spencer was cool with it, he could rent out to me long term, especially with Carly going off to college, he would have the space and I could pay him a decent amount of rent.

I went to the grocery store and loaded up their fridge and cabinets. They'd been gone a month, and anything that I hadn't eaten in their house had long gone bad.

I started to get anxious around three in the afternoon. What was I going to tell Carly? Should I tell her anything? Should I tell her before her date with Freddie? Should I wait until after?

My stomach was in knots at the idea of keeping this secret from Carly, but at the same time, it made me nearly vomit when I thought of telling her that I had gotten together with Freddie. I mean, he's liked her for nearly 5 years, and she'd always thought he was only available to her. So, does that mean that I essentially went after her boyfriend?

By the end of the afternoon, I'd convinced myself that I had committed the most evil of sins. To go after the boy that your best friend likes. Yes, the details were slightly skewed, but it didn't change the basic fact that Freddie was supposed to like HER and I went after him ANYWAY.

I was so lost in thought, biting my nails on the couch that I nearly screamed when Spencer and Carly burst through the door.

"SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!" Carly shouted, running toward me and jumping on top of me on the couch.

I smiled and I hugged her back half assed.

"I'm so happy to see you!" She exclaimed.

"I'm happy to see you too!" I said back, impressed with the truth in my statement. It really was nice to be around Carly. Maybe all the drama I was inflicting was self induced. Huh.

"Puckster! What's UP!" Spencer shouted from the doorway, throwing down 4 different suitcases and duffel bags and pulling me into a bear hug.

I struggled to breathe. "Not much, ROCK STAR!" I said, struggling to get out of his death grip. "Congratulations! When does the album drop?"

"Ah, thanks! I think it's set to come out sometime in September, but we still got a ton of promo shit to do first. I got some advanced copies though!"

"NICE! I definitely need one of those!"

He nodded and headed back to his bedroom, while Carly continued to sit on the couch with me. She hugged me again, and I pulled back a bit.

"What's with all the hugging, Ms. Display of Affection?"

She laughed. "I was so worried about you, Sam. I'm so sorry we were gone so long. I'm sorry about everything that happened with your mom and Chuck, and for missing your birthday… By the way, where were you on your birthday, I tried to call here like a million times!"

I shuddered. "It's a long story. Not a good one."

She hummed and hugged me again. Okay, I've had enough awkward hugging for one day. I didn't like hugs. Except Freddie hugs. Damn it.

"Sooooo…. how was L.A?" I asked, genuinely interested. I'd never been out of the state, much less to someplace exciting like L.A.

"Did you meat anyone famous? How was the food?"

She laughed. "I didn't really meet anyone famous, but I'm pretty sure I saw Tom Cruise in front of me at Starbucks. He's so short!"

"And…?" I asked.

"And what?"

"The food?"

She laughed. "Oh. Yes, the food was very good. And expensive. But good. They had sushi there that was to die for."

I nodded, thinking about celebrity sushi. Damn, I was hungry.

"So…." She interrupted. "The day you stopped by my house and I wasn't here, and you had to go to Freddie's…"

My stomach jumped. "Yeah?"

She bit her lip. "I'm so sorry, Sam. I know how hard that had to be for you. I know that you guys don't like each other."

I snorted a little at how far off she was these days.

She mistook my snort as agreement and continued, "I know, I know, and I'm really proud of both of you for what happened after."

Wait. What?

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean, I'm proud of you for putting up with him to let him in a little, and I'm proud of him for being able to put up with you long enough to help you."

"Oh. Yeah. Right." I said.

"It… sort of made me see him in a different light." She finished.

My fists tensed up and my jaw clenched automatically.

"I mean, I was dating this guy, Dylan, down in L.A. And he was gorgeous. I have to show you pictures. Just beautiful. Anyway, he's funny, and sweet, and smart and he's ambitious. I was crazy about him. We went out almost every day the entire time I was there, but something didn't feel right, ya know?" She continued talking and I forced a nod.

"So, then I'm talking to Freddie one day and I just dawns on me…. I mean, I saw how he would go above and beyond, even for you, someone he can't stand, and it really made me think about what he would do for me…" She finished and I was biting my lip in frustration.

She looked to me to say something.

"That's great, Carly. You finally see what's right in front of you." I said, unable to keep the bitter and sarcastic tone out of my voice.

She mistook my bitterness for sarcasm and disapproval. She looked shocked. "What the hell, Sam? You can't be nice about Freddie; even after all he's done for you?" She said, looking a bit angry.

I scoffed, shaking my head at how little Carly understood about the whole situation.

"Freddie is a great guy! He's smart and sweet and he's loyal and-"

I cut her off, not needing to hear the rest of the reasons why she loved him, and why they'd be perfect together.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm very thankful he was there that day. He really did take care of me. He really is a good guy. I know this." I said with perfect ease.

She ironed out her features and took a breath. "Well, good. I'm glad you can finally really see Freddie for the nice guy he is." She said, very matter of factly.

I tried to smile. "So… you really see him "that way" now, huh?" I said, sounding far too sad for my liking.

"Oh Sam! Just because me and Freddie will be a couple doesn't mean that I'll hang out with you less!" She said, patting my head.

I nodded. Yes, let her think THAT'S why I'm ready to drown my sorrows in some Ben and Jerry's.

"We have a date tonight. At six. Speaking of, I really need to get ready!" She squealed and jumped towards the bathroom.

I sat on the couch, starting at the television, not even registering what was on, trying to process my emotions, which were all over the place, varying from extremely depressed to violently pissed. After a while, Spencer sat down on the couch next to me, throwing his arm around me in a very brotherly, affectionate way.

"Puckernator!" He said, rubbing his knuckles over my head, and messing up my hair.

I shoved an elbow into his ribs lightly and he backed off, laughing. "Still not keen on the displays of affection, eh?" He joked.

I huffed. "Guess not."

He opened his beer and sat back on the couch. We sat in silence for a few minutes before he broke it.

"So, I saw your stuff in the guest bedroom." He announced.

"Yeah? I, uh, didn't mean to put it all in there before I asked if I could stay, and it's just until I find a place of my own, I just turned 18 the other day, so I haven't really had time to look into anyplace…" I stammered, nervous for some reason.

"Nah, nah, it's cool. I just wanted you to know you could stay here and you didn't have to feel weird about it. You're like my second little sister." He said and rubbed my head again.

"Okay. Thanks." I said, relieved that my living situation was a little more permanent now.

We sat in silence for a while; just watching the TV, but Spencer kept looking at me and squinting. It was driving me crazy.

"What?" I finally asked.

"Something's off about you. I can't figure out what it is. But you're different." He said, still squinting his eyes and taking swigs of his beer. Fuck Spencer and his amazing ability to read people.

He continued staring at me, breaking my will with every second. I was dying to tell someone anyway. Maybe Spencer would be able to help me get over it. He's been trying to get Carly to date Freddie forever.

Finally, I just blurted out. "I'm in love with Freddie."

Spencer opened his eyes wide for a second and then burst into laughter. My face remained straight, and tears came to my eyes at the way it stung when someone I loved thought it was ridiculous that I could be with Freddie.

He finally stopped laughing and looked me in the face. His laughter died down immediately.

"Oh my god, you're serious."

I nodded.

He leaned back and took a big swig of beer.

"Jesus." Another swig.

"Fuck." More beer.

I continued nodding as he processed.

"So what are you going to do?" He asked.

I was about to speak when the doorbell rang and Carly bounded down the stairs.

Spencer and I exchanged a glance.

_Oh, this was going to be bad._

A/N Oh angst. I love you so. It makes the lemons so much better. That's really what life is all about isn't it? Angst and smut. Smangst? :P Maybe a little fluff later on too. Smuflangst?

It gets worse before it gets better. Such as life. :P Review s'il vous plait?


	19. I'm not spoiled, I just get what I want

A/N Sorry for the insane wait for this chapter. I hit a serious block. I must have rewritten this thing about 10 times, and I'm still not that crazy about it…

THANKS TO MY AMAZING BETA AUSSIEMMA! YOU'RE THE BOMB, BABY!

Chapter 19

**I am not a spoiled brat…I just always get my way**

Carly POV

* * *

I'm used to getting what I want. I don't think it's because I'm spoiled, I think it's because I usually want things that not only benefit me, but benefit others.

Perfect example: I wanted Sam to live with us after all the stuff she'd been through, and when Spencer told me that he saw her stuff in the guest room, I didn't even have to ask if she could live with us, I just looked up at him and gave him the puppy dog eyes. He ruffled my hair and sighed.

"What Carly wants, Carly gets." He said as he shook his head and walked away.

See? Yes, I wanted Sam to live with us, but it wasn't that I was asking for something that was completely selfish. Sam wanted to stay too, and I'm sure as hell it beats living in that horrible trailer with those horrible people. I was happy that I could give her a nicer place to stay and that she finally could without any legal interference from THEM.

What I wanted almost always coincided with what others wanted as well.

Which is why I knew I'd get my way with Freddie. I finally saw him the way he saw me all these years. What I wanted would no doubt coincide with what he wanted.

As we sat at the restaurant table, he ran his fingers through his hair and nervously cleared his throat. The silence was slightly awkward and clearly an effect of first date jitters. As we looked over the menu, I reflected on the last few weeks that had lead me to this point.

* * *

L.A. was a dream. Beautiful, sunny, warm. Spencer was busy with the band nearly constantly, which left me to my own devices. I explored the huge city with Dylan, the assistant who'd been assigned to keep me entertained while the band was busy. He showed me all the touristy stuff after rolling his eyes at me for asking, then brought me around to his favorite spots. It felt like a dream.

It was that dream like quality of our time together that made me question it. I felt somewhat detached from the entire situation. I liked Dylan, a lot, but, even as I looked at him, I could feel something was wrong.

One night after he had taken me to an amazing sushi restaurant, we were walking back to my hotel room hand in hand.

"Carly, I… I think you're really amazing." He stammered a little, which completely threw me off. Dylan was always beyond confident; one might call him cocky if they didn't know him better.

I smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

"You're pretty great yourself." I said.

He smirked a little. "Oh, I know."

I rolled my eyes.

"So cocky. Why do I feed your ego?" I teased.

"Hey, I am confident. There's a difference." He teased back.

I sighed and leaned into him as we strolled down the beautiful Hollywood avenue.

"So…." He started, clearing his throat. "I was wondering… what your plans were…" He trailed.

"For tomorrow? I don't know yet, I don't think I need to do anything, and I've certainly seen all of Hollywood by now, right?"

He chuckled a little and stopped us from walking any further.

"No, not tomorrow. I want to know what your long term plans are. For us." He clarified.

"Oh." I said, my eyes going wide, not realizing how serious he was about me until that moment.

He licked his lips, "I really want you to stay. Here. In L.A. With me." He finished, holding my hand in front of his lips and kissing it sweetly.

I was speechless. I knew that I had college waiting for me in the fall, I knew that I had Sam waiting on me to come home, I knew I would have Spencer to answer to, but at that moment, all I could see was endless days of sun tanning and hanging by the beach and endless nights filled with fancy restaurants and passionate kissing.

I smiled widely and kissed him deeply.

He pulled away after a moment and whispered, "Is that a yes?"

I nodded we continued on our way back to my hotel, where I kissed him goodnight chastely and went up to my room.

I rushed up to my room to make my nightly phone call, and I quickly dialed his number, waiting anxiously for him to pick up.

Talking to Freddie while I was in L.A. was completely different than talking to him at home and I couldn't figure out why. I didn't understand why I got butterflies in my stomach when I saw his number on my cell and I really couldn't understand why I kept my calls to and from Freddie a secret from Dylan. It wasn't that we talked about anything salacious. We certainly weren't talking about anything that we hadn't talked about for the last five years.

But talking to Freddie was my little piece of home that I could keep to myself, and it kept me from totally becoming part of L.A. culture.

Because of the fact that Sam was nearly impossible to get a hold of, and even harder to talk to once I got her on the phone, I relied on Freddie to keep me updated as to how she was doing. I knew it was hard for the two of them, what with Sam completely hating Freddie and Freddie being so intolerant of Sam. But the way he took care of her and made sure that she was okay… there were no words for how proud I was of him, and happy that he was my friend.

I was plenty proud of Sam too. She had been through so much in her life. The way she was around Freddie, and pretty much everyone except me, was just her defense mechanism to make people think she was tough as nails. She was as mushy as a marshmallow underneath that rough exterior, but her survival instincts had taught her never to let anyone else see that. Allowing Freddie to help her was a huge step for her.

Freddie picked up and sounded so happy to hear from me. We talked for what seemed like hours about absolutely nothing. We analyzed episodes of True Blood, and discussed which Ninja Turtle was really the coolest, but neither of us actually talked about anything that was going on in real life. I had kept Dylan out of the conversation completely, and if Freddie was doing anything of interest in his life, he was certainly keeping it from me.

Whenever I brought up the subject of Sam, he answered everything in clipped, short answers. It didn't surprise me that he didn't want to discuss one of his least favorite people, but after badgering for a while, he told me that he was actively keeping an eye on her for me. All of a sudden, it clicked.

I knew why this thing in L.A. didn't feel quite right. I knew why I was keeping Freddie a secret. I knew why seeing his name on my caller ID gave me butterflies.

I had fallen in love with Freddie Benson.

I quickly got off the phone, so I could deal with my emotions and ran over to Spencer's room and banged on his door until he opened it no more than a crack.

He had a sheet slung low on his hips and a look that could kill the devil.

"This had better be good Carly." He said, his teeth clenched.

"It is." I rushed, pushing at the door. "Why, you have someone in here?" I asked.

He hit his head on the door frame frustrated. "Yeah…" he sighed. "Give me a minute." He slammed the door and I heard some low murmuring and some giggling.

I rolled my eyes at my brother, the perpetual man-whore.

He opened the door a few minutes later fully dressed and I caught a glimpse of not one, but two gorgeous blondes on the bed.

"K, let's go, we can grab a coffee." He said, not acknowledging that I'd noticed the two women.

My mouth hung open. "Spencer!" I admonished, while punching his arm. "God, you're so gross." I said as I stomped off to the elevators.

He chuckled. "I know you didn't knock on my door to disapprove of my sexual behavior. What's up?"

I sighed as the elevator doors opened.

"I think I'm in love with Freddie." I said.

Spencer nodded like it was already common knowledge. "I wondered when it was gonna happen."

"Wha- what do you mean? You saw this coming?" I asked, the pitch of my voice getting higher and higher.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Spencer walked out first and I followed, still reeling from my admission to both him and myself and wondering why he was so calm about the damn thing.

We stepped into the hotel's café and ordered some coffee, decaf for me, and I asked Spencer again. "What do you mean, "You wondered when it was gonna happen"?"

He sipped his coffee and shrugged. "The boy's been in love with you for five years, Carls. It's kind of hard to resist that kind of devotion and adoration forever, sis."

I frowned, wondering if that's all it was. Did I really just crack after the years of adoration?

He sipped again, "I just hope it's not too late." He said.

"What do you mean?" I said, much harsher than I had intended.

"Well, he's been after you for five years… I mean, I'm definitely not a guy that could wait around for a week, let alone five years, but I just want you to be aware that he may not see you that way anymore. He may have accepted that you're just his friend and he's okay with that." He said simply.

I scoffed. "Please. Freddie has never dated anyone else. Not that I didn't want him to or anything. I'm just saying that if he were truly "over me", then why wouldn't he have ever gone after someone else?" I argued.

Spencer smiled. "Carly, I'm not saying that he's "over you", I'm just trying to prepare you in case it doesn't work out like you planned. There's got to be a point where you stop getting everything you want." He chuckled.

I scoffed again. "Again. Please. I only ever want things that others want as well. It's the true key in getting what you want." I replied matter of factly.

Spencer sipped his coffee and shook his head, smiling.

"Well, I'm happy for you sis. He's wanted you to want him for a long time. Good for him, too."

I nodded, agreeing that it was good. Good, good, good.

"But, uh…. what about Dylan?" he asked quietly.

Crap. Dylan. Crap. Crap. Crap.

I hated the idea of hurting anyone. But realistically, was that vision of lying on the beach forever really practical? Was I really willing to give up college and Sam? Or, more importantly, any kind of future with Freddie? That answer to all of the above was no.

"I… I guess I need to break up with him." I answered, becoming more and more depressed at having to face his broken heart day after day while Spencer finished recording.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, we are almost done here in L.A. anyway. I think we'll be back home in less than a week." He said.

"Really?" I said, excited at the prospect of getting everything I wanted at home.

He nodded and got up to leave. I, too, was anxious to get back to my room and call Freddie back and give him the news that not only would I be home soon, but that I wanted to be with him.

"Do me a favor?" He asked.

"Anything!" I answered.

"Just sleep on it first. Don't do anything yet. Just sleep on it." He advised.

I nodded. I knew my mind wouldn't change. It never did, but Spencer always told me to sleep on it, and I always did.

I went to sleep filled with both dread and excitement. Dread over having to break Dylan's heart and excitement over making Freddie's dreams come true. Sure, it was a little narcissistic, but knowing that I was going to give Freddie everything he'd ever wanted made me sort of giddy.

The breakup was just as awful as I'd expected. His ego wouldn't allow for him to look like he was hurt, so after some angry and hurtful insults hurled at me, he blatantly ignored me for the rest of my time in L.A.

And then when I called Freddie and he answered, I panicked and quickly asked how Sam was. I tried to tell him how I felt about him, and he basically hung up on me after I was ready to confess my feelings for him. What the hell was up with the males in the world?

I gave him a day to call me back and by ten o'clock that night I was downright pissed. I called him and he answered, happy to hear from me and putting the butterflies back in my tummy. We moved past the fact that he hadn't called me back and happily moved on to talking about my time in L.A. Something we hadn't really talked about since I'd gotten here. I told him all about Spencer and the band and everything I'd done, and then after I sucked my nerves, I told him briefly about Dylan and how it didn't work because something wasn't quite right. And that I'd figured out why.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, sounding clueless. I smiled at his naivety.

"Yes. I have. Listen, I'm going to be home the day after tomorrow. We should get dinner." I said confidently.

"Umm…okay?" He answered, sounding hopelessly confused.

"Okay? Okay. You come over at 6 to pick me up. Bring flowers." I answered, thrilled that I was getting what I wanted.

"Uhhhh….Kaaay." He answered, sounding more and more confused. I couldn't wait for him to get it and be as excited as I was for us.

"Yay! Okay, Freddie, say hi to Sam for me. See you in a few days! Bye!" I nearly squeaked, growing more excited by the minute to return home.

"Yeah. Bye." He said distantly, and then the phone clicked.

Well, it wasn't the soul quenching love confession that I was expecting, but I assumed he was just in shock over the whole thing. I couldn't wait to see how he'd react on our date.

Getting home and seeing Sam was so great. Sam was still Sam, but she seemed more sullen, even for her. I tried to get her to talk about what had happened since I'd been gone, but she seemed so closed off. It was strange for Sam to not want to talk about it. I understood her not opening up to Freddie, but she always talked to me.

"So…. The day you stopped by my house and I wasn't here, and you had to go to Freddie's…" I started, hoping that she'd fill in the blanks.

She tightened her lips. "Yeah?"

I internally huffed. Nope. She wasn't going to tell me a thing. I bit my lip and moved on to the next thing I wanted to tell her.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. I know how hard that had to be for you. I know that you guys don't like each other."

She made a snorting noise that I took as, "That's an understatement"

"I know, I know, and I'm really proud of both of you for what happened after." She had to know that allowing him to help her was so amazing for her. She finally was letting people in; maybe she would realize that people weren't all bad.

"What do you mean?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"I mean, I'm proud of you for putting up with him to let him in a little, and I'm proud of him for being able to put up with you long enough to help you." I said, being bluntly honest about both of their distastes for one another.

"Oh. Yeah. Right." She answered.

"It… sort of made me see him in a different light." I hedged, testing out to see how Sam was going to react to the idea of me and Freddie.

She stayed perfectly silent so I continued.

"I mean, I was dating this guy, Dylan, down in L.A. And he was gorgeous. I have to show you pictures. Just beautiful. Anyway, he's funny, and sweet, and smart and he's ambitious. I was crazy about him. We went out almost every day the whole time I was there, but something didn't feel right, ya know?"

Sam nodded and I continued.

"So, then I'm talking to Freddie one day and I just dawns on me… I mean, I saw how he would go above and beyond, even for you, someone he can't stand, and it really made me think about what he would do for me…" I trailed off and looked at her to say something.

"That's great, Carly. You finally see what's right in front of you." She said sarcastically.

I knew she was going to be sarcastic about the whole thing, but it sounded almost… mean. This wasn't the Sam I knew at all.

"What the hell, Sam? You can't be nice about Freddie; even after all he's done for you?" I said, getting pretty pissed off.

She made that snorting type noise again and shook her head, trying to blow me off.

I got louder, "Freddie is a great guy! He's smart and sweet and he's loyal and-"

Sam cut me off mid sentence.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm very thankful he was there that day. He really did take care of me. He really is a good guy. I know this." She said softly.

I breathed out my anger and calmed down.

"Well, good. I'm glad you can finally really see Freddie for the nice guy he is." I said, smiling.

Then Sam, looked up at me, with a fake smile that was far too sad.

"So… you really see him "that way" now, huh?" she said, sounding even sadder than her pitiful smile.

Poor Sam. She thought she was going to lose me to Freddie. I guess I could understand. I'd been gone almost a month and now she was going to have to deal with me getting together with someone that annoys her the most.

"Oh Sam! Just because me and Freddie will be a couple doesn't mean that I'll hang out with you less!" I said, patting her head.

She nodded. I really would make sure we spent time together after Freddie and I's date. Which reminded me…

"We have a date tonight. At six. Speaking of, I really need to get ready!" I said excitedly and ran off to get ready.

The doorbell rang promptly at six and I nearly sprinted down the stairs to get it. I looked over at Spencer and Sam who were looking very anxious. How sweet of them to be anxious for my first date!

I opened the door and was fairly disappointed at the lack of flowers. I thought I mentioned that he bring flowers. You should always bring flowers on a date. Didn't he know my rules?

I brushed it off and smiled widely at him, as he looked at me and then at Sam. I frowned slightly. Did he think Sam was going to mess with him? I leaned in to kiss him on the cheek when I heard Sam get up and come toward us.

I was about to tell Sam not to start when she pushed passed us, rushing out of the apartment, looking like she was about to cry.

"Sam!" Freddie called after her.

"Freddie, let her go. Whatever is upsetting her, we can't do anything for her right now." I said, knowing that when Sam wanted to be by herself, she wanted exactly that.

Freddie looked like he was being split in two. I was touched by his desire to take care of Sam, even though I was back.

He ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a breath. "You ready?" He asked.

I nodded and I said bye to Spencer, who was gaping at Freddie open mouthed. I guess he couldn't believe that we were actually going to date each other.

Which lead us to where I was sitting, across the booth at an Applebee's restaurant. Not exactly my first choice for a nice dinner, but who was I to complain about where the boy took me. If this is where he envisioned our first date, then so be it.

He looked nervous as hell, biting his lip and running his hands through his hair nervously.

"So, Freddie." I said, breaking the silence. "This is pretty crazy, huh? You and me on a date?" I said, waiting for him to tell me that he'd been waiting five years for this night.

"Well… that's the thing, Carly…" He started, "I… this isn't…. I'm sort of…." He stammered.

I laughed at his adorable nervousness. "Oh, Freddie, you're so nervous it's adorable!"

He took a deep breath and blurted out, "I'm seeing someone."

My face instantly fell. This isn't how it was supposed to go. I wasn't supposed to want something I couldn't have. That meant I couldn't have it. That's not how it's supposed to be.

"Who?" I asked.

He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out.

"I… I…" He stuttered.

"Who is it?" I asked a little more sternly.

"It's not really important who it is." He answered, looking down at his plate.

"Umm… okay." I said, confused.

"I just… I never thought you'd see me like that, and I just… don't think of you like that… anymore." He said, looking up at me cautiously.

My breath was getting shallow and I could feel the tears coming.

"You don't… want me?" I asked, almost unable to get the words out.

"It's not that I don't want you, specifically, I don't want anyone else… it's just really bad timing. I don't think I can see anyone else like the way I see her." He said.

I bit my lip, the tears now ready to fall over onto my cheeks.

"I need a minute." I said, and got up and rushed to the bathroom.

I must have sat in the bathroom sobbing forever. It was just like Spencer said, he had moved on. He had gotten over me. He thought I'd never see him for the amazing boyfriend that he could be and now it was too late.

Finally, a waitress came in and handed me my cell phone and gave me a hopeful look. I looked at it and it was Freddie.

"Carly…" He said softly.

I sniffed.

"I'm so sorry that I hurt you. You're my best friend, and it's killing me that I'm the one who is making girls cry right now."

He sounded genuinely pained. I sniffed again.

"I can honestly say that I know what you're going through." He said with a slight sense of humor.

I laughed a little through my tears.

"Carly. Please come back out here. Have dinner with me. Pretend you never said anything. I'm still Freddie. I'm still your best friend. Don't let us lose that." He said earnestly.

I nodded, and then felt ridiculous for nodding over the phone.

"K." I said.

"Ok. See you in a minute." He said and hung up.

I looked over the bathroom sink and groaned at my eye make-up running down my cheeks. But a wet paper towel and some pressed powder later, I looked good as new. If nothing else, I knew how to cry correctly. No puffy eyes, no red cheeks, just tears.

I pushed my shoulders pack and told myself that above anything else, I wanted my best friend to be happy.

And I always got what I wanted.

* * *

A/N Okay, you can hate her a little if you want to now. I sure as heck don't like writing her. She's self absorbed, bratty and a little bit of a snob. CPOV's won't be happening very often. But I did feel like it was important to show you all that she legitimately wanted him, was legitimately upset when he rejected her (Go Freddie) and she legitimately wants to see him happy. In theory, anyway. *eyebrow wiggle* Did I just foreshadow there? Hmmm…..

Next up is FPOV…and I love FPOVs


	20. Pretty Pink Vomit

A/N Props to Lanter for the line from her review of chapter 18. Loved it so much I'm using it. :P

And thanks again to my Beta, Aussiemma. She rocks my socks, ya'll.

Chapter 20

FPOV

Pretty pink vomit

I was nervous all day. After my mom's "therapy session" with Sam in the kitchen, I felt the need to give Sam a little space from me, which was absolutely awful, because it just left me with my thoughts all day long. My stomach was in knots over how on earth I was going to tell Carly that I didn't want to date her. I really didn't want to mention Sam's role in my life. Not because I was embarrassed or ashamed, but because I wanted Sam to be the one to tell her. They were best friends first, and if anyone was going to bow out of our triangular friendship, it was going to be me.

No doubt about it though, it was going to be fucking weird. Like, awkward weird. Like, baaad awkward weird.

I knew I wanted to be honest though, well, as honest as I could without actually telling her about Sam. I wanted to be honest quickly. Really quickly. Like "before the appetizers come" kind of quickly. I wanted the awkwardness to be gone so that we could be friends and catch up, and maaaybe even sneak in a few clues about Sam and me so that it wouldn't be such a shock to her.

I wanted to make the thing as least date like as possible. I remembered back to when Sam and I went to the movies and then to the diner and how "date like" it felt. I smiled when I thought of it. Seems like so long ago when we were still trying to figure out that we even liked each other, and here I was, head over heels in love with the girl.

I was yanked from my revelry when my iPhone buzzed on the table.

**Gettin ready 4 our date! So excited! XOXOXO**

Oh boy. This was going to be bad.

I remembered that she told me to bring flowers. Now I was forced to make the decision to blatantly be rude and not bring flowers, or bring flowers and reinforce the idea to Carly (and Sam) that it was a date. So I didn't. I also didn't dress up, and decided to bring her to Applebee's. I cringed a little at what Carly would think. It certainly wasn't going to earn me any points to bring her to a chain restaurant in jeans and a hoodie, but that's what I was going for.

At six on the dot, I rang the doorbell and tried to settle my nerves. Carly opened the door and smiled widely at me. I looked at her and then right at Sam, who looked like she'd just been emotionally hit by a truck. She closed her eyes and looked away as Carly leaned in to kiss my cheek. I stood there a little speechless by the whole thing and Sam got up and pushed by me and Carly, rushing out of the apartment.

"Sam!" I called after her, wishing that I could yell to her that it wasn't a date, that I was going to tell her everything. Well, mostly everything. Carly dismissed her as "Sam being Sam." and telling me that she needed time to herself.

I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair, desperately trying to acknowledge that it wouldn't help the situation if I followed her now.

"You ready?" I asked, and caught Spencer's open mouthed stare at me. We locked eyes for a second and in that second, I knew that he knew about Sam. I mouthed "later" to him, and he nodded, his look was a little fierce and angry. Shit. For all he knew, I was dating Sam and his sister at the same time. Yikes. THAT conversation would be fun.

I tried to think of how to tell Carly the entire drive to the restaurant that it wasn't a date, but she wouldn't shut up. I don't even know what she was talking about. Could have been L.A. Could have been shoes, could have been T.V. All I knew is that I wasn't listening because I was just wondering where Sam went and how upset she was at me.

We got to the restaurant and looked over the menu. Like I cared what we ordered. This "date" needed to get straightened out now. But how to tell her… ugh….

"So, Freddie." she said, breaking the silence. "This is pretty crazy, huh? You and me on a date?" she said, like she was expecting me to answer a certain way.

"Well… that's the thing, Carly…" I started, terrified to hurt her, "I… this isn't…. I'm sort of…." I stuttered, grasping to find the right words.

She laughed, "Oh, Freddie, you're so nervous it's adorable!"

I took a deep breath. She was not helping me. I needed to start with something. Anything.

"I'm seeing someone."

She looked crushed instantly.

"Who?" She asked.

I tried to answer, nothing came out but stuttering.

"Who is it?" She asked more pressing.

I frowned, "It's not really important who it is." I answered, looking down at my plate, avoiding her eyes.

"Umm… okay." She said, confused.

I took a breath and let it out slowly. "I just… I never thought you'd see me like that, and I just… don't think of you like that… anymore." I said, and then looked up at her face to see her reaction.

She started hyperventilating and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes.

"You don't… want me?" She squeaked, her words breaking my heart.

"It's not that I don't want you, specifically, I don't want anyone else… it's just really bad timing. I don't think I can see anyone else like the way I see her." I said, remembering the way that Sam made me feel, and the way that I loved her.

She bit her lip and the tears dripped down her face.

"I need a minute." She said, and ran to the bathroom.

I puffed out a breath. _Great job, Benson, you've managed to make the two most important women in your life cry tonight. Awesome._

Hopefully the worst was over. I was sure she was going to pepper me with question about who I was with, and I hoped I would be able to skirt around it for a while.

But I needed to get back soon; I needed to talk to Sam.

After several trips of the waitress coming over and asking if I was ready to order, I knew I needed another tactic. I called Carly's phone and answered it, then called the waitress over and asked her to bring the phone to the "crying girl in the bathroom."

She smiled a little and nodded. I could hear through the phone Carly's sobs as the waitress came into the bathroom. I hear her say, "Here." And I heard Carly's sniffs become clearer.

"Carly…" I said softly.

She sniffed.

I sighed. "I'm so sorry that I hurt you. You're my best friend, and it's killing me that I'm the one who is making girls cry right now."

She sniffed again.

"I can honestly say that I know what you're going through." I said, trying to make a joke. After all, I had been in this position many times over the last five years.

I heard her laugh a pathetic little laugh and I sighed a little, knowing I was making progress.

"Carly. Please come back out here. Have dinner with me. Pretend you never said anything. I'm still Freddie. I'm still your best friend. Don't let us lose that." I said, meaning every word. I didn't want to lose her altogether.

After a moment, I hear her say, "K."

"Ok. See you in a minute." I said and hung up the phone.

The waitress came back over and I ordered us an appetizer. I wished I was 21 already so I could order a shot. I needed a drink after an evening like this.

Carly came out, looking more stunning than ever. How that girl managed to cry for half an hour and still look like a super model was beyond me.

She sat down with a broad smile on her face.

"So. Freddie. Tell me about this girl you're seeing." She said, sipping her water.

"Really? You want to hear about her? It's not too weird?" I asked.

She shrugged a little.

"Carly, I wouldn't be offended if you didn't want to talk about it. If you recall, I used to have to leave the room when you would talk about other guys. It drove me up the wall!"

She laughed. "Yeah, I remember. I tried not to do it around you too much." She smiled.

"Yeah, right. Sometimes, I swore you would just make up boys to talk about just to see me get jealous." I laughed.

She laughed right along with me. "Yeah, I totally did. Sam thought it'd be funny… It was."

I shook my head at both of them for torturing, and smiled a little more at Sam's likely hidden agenda.

The laughter died down after a minute.

"It's fine, Freddie. Really. I'm over it. I just had to tell myself that I want to see you happy more than I want you to be with me. Because it's true." She smiled and reached for my hand across the table.

"You are a great guy. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out for myself. Whoever she is, she's incredibly lucky." She was stroking my hand with her fingers and it was making me a tad bit uncomfortable, so I pulled my hand from under hers and placed it on top of hers on the table.

"You already know I think you're amazing, Carly. I know it will take you about 2 seconds to find a guy if you want one. Hell, you could get any guy in this room!" I said, leaning back and looking around the room, noticing for the first time how many men were looking in her direction.

She rolled her eyes and flipped her hand as if to say, "oh, stop."

"So… tell me about her!" She asked eagerly. My stomach sank. I really didn't want to have this conversation with her. I didn't believe that she was as "over it" as she made it seem, and I still needed to talk to Sam before I said anything to Carly.

She smirked a little, "Is there even a girl, Freddie?"

I huffed, "Yes, Carly, I AM seeing someone." I said firmly.

"Well, why can't you tell me about her?" She asked.

I shifted in my chair; desperately uncomfortable and wishing I could change the topic.

Carly must have finally sensed my hesitation. "If you don't want to talk about with me, I understand, I guess." She huffed.

"Boy, nobody seems to want to talk to me anymore." She said sadly.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, Sam hasn't really talked to me about anything since I've been gone. I think she might be mad at me for going out with you." She stated.

I shifted uncomfortably.

"Why would she be mad at you?" I asked, trying to figure out what Sam had given away.

"I think it's because I've been gone for a month and then the first thing I tell her is that I'm probably going to be spending all my time with you." She said, taking a bite of the salad that had just been delivered to the table.

"So you think she's jealous of me?" I asked, almost smiling at how wrong she was.

"Ha! That's an understatement, I'm sure. I mean, she can't stand you, no offense, and then she finds out that you're going to be around even more than usual? Yeah, I think she'd be a little jealous of our time together." She said, as if it were common knowledge.

I shook my head. Had Carly always been this self centered? I guess I'd been so into her, that I didn't realize it.

"Well, I don't need to get into you and Sam's business. That's for you guys to figure out. And since we're not actually dating, just staying friends, there's nothing for her to be jealous of." I said. I knew exactly who Sam was jealous of, and it wasn't me. Hopefully when Sam finds out this wasn't a date, and I set Carly straight, she'd be a little nicer and more open with Carly.

The rest of the evening went fairly smoothly. We had a nice dinner and talked about nothing of real importance and Carly suggested a movie afterward. I wanted to tell her no and go find Sam, but Carly gave me those puppy dog eyes and told me that if our friendship meant something to me that we'd see a movie together as friends. I figured I owed her at least that.

I still couldn't shake the feeling that Carly wasn't going to give up on the idea of her and I.

I parked outside the apartment building and started heading toward the building at a fast pace.

"Hey! What's the rush Freddie?" Carly said, trying to catch up.

"I… uh… I just really want to get back and check on my mom, she had a really weird day today." I said.

We got to the front of the apartment building.

"Wait." Carly said.

"Before we go inside, I want to tell you something." She looked up at me through her dark lashes. "I had a really good time tonight." She said and stepped closer to me.

I sucked in a breath and took a step back.

"Carly-" I started, but she stopped me with her lips, as she threw her arms around me and kissed me.

It only took a half second before I pushed her away from me.

"Stop." I said and looked at her. She looked downright pleased with herself.

"What?" She asked innocently.

I was about to flip out on her when I heard something in the bushes to the side of us.

We both looked over at the foliage and heard more rustling.

"Who's out there?" I said loudly, still pissed from the attack of Carly's lips.

All of a sudden, Sam burst through the bushes, and took three steps so she was right in front of us.

"Sam?" Carly asked.

Sam smiled vindictively. "Yeah, Carly, it's me. Sorry I interrupted the goodnight kiss." She said, her breath reeking of booze.

"Sam, you're drunk." Carly said, annoyed.

"Ding Ding Ding! Carly's a geeeeniusss!" Sam retorted sarcastically.

"Sam-" I said warningly, knowing that what she just saw looked incredibly bad.

"Oh, Freddie" She said, as she sighed and stroked my face.

"You're not a nice boy." She said, and smacked my cheek hard.

"SAM!" Carly admonished, and then huffed. "Let's get you inside."

"FINE." Sam said sarcastically. "Hang on a sec."

She took a breath and leaned her hands on her knees, bending at the waist.

"Sam, no!" Carly yelled a second too late. Sam had vomited all over Carly's feet.

Pretty pink vomit. Sam must have been drinking something fruity.

I was about 95% sure that she did it on purpose, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek not to laugh.

"SAM!" Carly screamed.

Sam sat up and wiped her mouth. "Oops." She said and smiled.

I snickered a little, the smile earning that last 5% that I was unsure of.

Carly didn't notice, or if she did, she paid me no mind as she wrapped her arms around Sam.

"C'mon, let's get you upstairs and cleaned up." Sam leaned against her a little too much and sent Carly nearly toppling over. She would have if I hadn't helped them both to the elevators.

We barged into Carly and Spencer's apartment and Spencer jumped off the couch, leaving a very stunning, gorgeous brunette lying on the couch.

"What happened?" He asked, clearly surprised.

"I don't know what happened, she just showed up outside as we were coming in. She's drunk." Carly announced.

"Well obviously." Spencer snickered, and the brunette hurriedly buttoned her blouse and stood up.

"This isn't funny!" Carly insisted. "She puked on my shoes!" She whined.

"Well, looks like you guys got that under control, I'm gonna be… not here…" Spencer said as he slipped into his bedroom, pulling the brunette behind him. She gave us a small wave and shut the door behind them.

"SPENCER!" Carly called out in vain.

I helped set Sam down on the couch, and she slumped over, passed out.

Carly left the room and came back in with a bucket, a glass of water, some Tylenol and a rubber band. She looked incredibly annoyed.

"I guess you're going to bail now too, huh?" She asked, sighing.

"No, I'm not going to bail. In fact, let me take this one. You go get some rest. You just got back from L.A. today, I'm sure you're exhausted." I said, meaning every word, but more than that, wanting the chance to talk to Sam.

Carly looked visibly shocked. "Are you sure? She can be quite a handful when she's drunk." She said, unsure.

I nodded. "I'll be fine. If she gives me any trouble, I'll bribe her with meat products."

She smiled. "Um… okay. Good luck with that." She said and spun on her heel to go up to her bedroom.

I looked over at Sam. She looked absolutely awful. There was puke in her hair, and she was super pale. I propped her up on the couch and gently pulled her hair back into a ponytail away from her face. I got a washcloth from the bathroom and rinsed it out and wiped over her face.

"Mmm… that feels nice, Carly…" She mumbled.

I cleared my throat. "It's actually me." I said.

Her eyes flew open. "Oh! Why are you here?" She asked.

"I… I could go if you want me to." I said.

She shook her head. "No. S'fine."

I put the Tylenol in her hand and gave her the glass. "Take these, please."

She threw down the pills with the water and then leaned into me. It was risky, letting her rest on me like this, but I didn't really care.

"Where did you go, Sam?" I asked, wondering where she'd been all night.

She shrugged. "Bar."

I frowned. "What bar served you?"

She shrugged. "Dunno. The guy bought me the drinks."

I saw red. "What guy?"

"The guys. You know, the guy with the hat." She slurred. I got up and started pacing around the room.

"No, Sam. I don't know which guy with the hat." I answered, angrily.

She sat up quickly. "Oh, so you're Mr. I Can Date Whoever I Want, But You Can't."

Her words stung. "It was a date?" I asked in a small voice.

She flopped back on the couch. "I dunno fit wassa date. I dint really like em."

I felt a little better. "So why did you go a bar with him?" I asked.

"BECAUSE FREDDIE. You were on a date with Ms. Perfect Ass." She said, as if it were obvious.

I sat down on the coffee table in front of her. "It wasn't a date, Sam. I told her that, first thing. She cried and ran to the bathroom."

Sam looked at me, her eyes rolling around in her head a little bit. "Really?" She said.

I smiled. "Really."

She smiled a little bit. Then, as if she remembered something, her smiled fell from her face and she poked my chest.

"Then why was she kissin you?" She accused.

I put my hands up in defense, "I know that looked bad, but I swear that was her kissing me, and she had the wrong idea. I was about to tell her so, before you made your presence known." I said.

"Hmmm." Was all she said as she leaned back against the couch with her eyes closed.

I bit my lip and prepared myself for the worst.

"So… did you and "hat guy" do anything?" I asked.

She opened her eyes and looked at me. "Nooooo. I tried to, though. But I jus couldn't doit. I'm too in love with you… too much." She slurred.

I didn't have time to respond before she reached for the bucket and started puking into it violently. I rubbed her back and helped her keep her hair out of her way. When she appeared to be done, I helped her over to the sink so she could use some mouthwash and drink some more water.

"Sleep. I need sleep." She mumbled.

I brought her back to the guest room and she stood there with her eyes closed and her arms raised over her head.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Help me take a shirt off. S'too hard." She said, still swaying.

I huffed and pulled her t-shirt over her head, trying not to pay attention to the midnight blue lace bra that she was wearing underneath that pushed her breasts together into the most delectable cleavage. She pushed her nearly naked chest against me seductively.

"You can have me… if you want me." She whispered in my ear. This was not helping things.

"I don't think that's such a great idea Sam." I whispered back.

She flopped onto the bed and lifted her foot. "Fine. Shoes. Off." She said.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Please?" She asked.

I shook my head and removed one shoe and sock and then the other. When she lifted her hips to indicate she wanted me to take her pants off, I rubbed my hands over my face and prayed that god would give me some strength not to take advantage of my extremely drunk, extremely attractive girlfriend.

"I won't give any funny stuff. Jus help me." She whined.

I pulled the button of her jeans and slipped the pants down her long legs, not at all noticing the matching blue lace panties.

She sat up and pulled me down by my shirt to her lips, which were minty and cool from the mouthwash.

While I didn't want to stop kissing her… ever… this was literally not the time or place for it.

"Not here, Sam. Not tonight. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning." I said, kissing her forehead.

"Kay." She whispered.

I tucked her into bed and I headed for the door.

"I love you." She said again as I slipped out, shutting the door behind me and rested my head on it.

There it was again. Her telling me she loved me. I couldn't help the way my heart surged when I heard the words. It was such an amazing feeling.

But it was short lived. I couldn't know if she meant anything she said because of how drunk she was. What if she woke up tomorrow and regretted saying it? Especially if she didn't mean it.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. I was supposed to tell her I loved her in some romantic way and she would say it back and then we'd make passionate love. That's how it was supposed to happen. FUCK!

I decided then and there that I wouldn't mention it. Maybe she wouldn't remember. Yeah, she probably wouldn't even remember. Then we could just tell Carly that we were a couple and get back to just being us.

I sighed. Something told me it wasn't going to be that simple.

A/N I love that you all hate Carly as much as I do. I dunno why, but that little bitch annoys the shit out of me, even on the show. But to be fair, even in my universe she does have SOME redeeming qualities. She's very loyal to Sam and Freddie, and she was willing to take care of Sam, even if Sam did puke on her shoes. But what's up with her kissing Freddie even though he was like, "no, I don't want to date you"? Even for me, the writer, that came out of nowhere. I'm as confused as Freddie is. I'm telling you, these characters take over my fingers when I type. It's so much fun. :P K, that's enough of my rant.

I'm thinking of going back and telling you all what Sam did, non? I like writing drunk Sam. IDK. Seems a little redundant. Maybe my Beta has some insight….

Review if you like fast updates! It's super motivating!


	21. Random Boys

A/N Wow, over 120 reviews and almost 15 thousand hits. 64 people have the story on alert and 48 have favorited it. I'm beyond humbled. And stoked that this many people are reading and liking my story. Thank you all for taking my hobby and giving me constructive criticism on how to make it better and positive feedback to keep me motivated. Thank you doesn't begin to cover it….

I'd also like to thank the Academy….oh wait, wrong speech. :P

Thanks to my FUCKING AWESOME Beta, Aussiemma, who makes a cameo in this chapter. She's so awesome, guys, for reals, she makes me giggle like no tomorrow. Also, she's a GREAT writer, no matter what she tries to tell you, so go convince her that she needs to write something so we can all bask in her angsty Seddie glory. (Called you out Emma, didn't I?)

Also, a shout out to Axel100, who sends me the most fucktastic PMs. You're witty puns and sexy double entendres make my life complete.

Ok, ok, sorry for the wordy A/N…Let's get to it, shall we?

Chapter 21

SPOV

Random boys

I was done before the doorbell even rang. My eyes started to tear up when she opened the door. My stomach churned and threatened to spill its contents when she leaned in to kiss him. I couldn't watch; I needed to get out of there. I sprinted off the couch and pushed past the perfect couple as I kept my eyes focused on getting the hell out of there.

I heard Freddie calling after me, but paid no attention to it as I kept going, my legs carrying me further and further away.

I was still picturing my best friend looking absolutely gorgeous as she opened the door for my boyfriend, who would inevitably fall in love with her. Just like it was supposed to be. I couldn't be upset with her though, much as I wanted to blame this one on her. Carly knew nothing about my feelings for Freddie, and I know that if she did know, she wouldn't be on this date with him right now. But that would be selfish and Freddie deserved her. It didn't make it any easier to accept, though.

I hadn't even gotten a chance to deal with the fact that I'd admitted to loving the boy out loud for the first time ever. Poor Spencer, his head must be reeling right now. I chuckled when I thought of how Freddie must look to him right now. With the way Spencer is with women, I wondered if he would give him the "guy stamp of approval" or if he'd be pissed as hell, given that one of the girls is his baby sister. Heh.

I continued running until I couldn't run anymore and then I just walked. I didn't pay attention to anyone or anything and just followed where my feet wanted me to go. I thought about Carly and all the wonderful things she'd done for me in our friendship. I thought about Freddie and how good he'd been to me this last month, and really, in our whole friendship. I even thought about Spencer and all the things he'd done for me as well. I owed it to all of them to let this happen. To step aside and let fate run its course.

Before I knew it, my feet had taken me to Lou's. I smiled at my internal GPS. Cheeseburgers must be home base.

I walked in and Emma smiled at me and gave a big wave. She was the waitress that worked the late shift into early morning. I hated the shift. I'd worked it a couple of times and it was nothing but drunks and truck drivers, but Emma loved working it. She was from Australia, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not convince her body to get on American time, so her internal clock was about 10 hours off.

"It's heaps awesome!" She'd said. "On my 'days off' I wake up at 4 in the arvo and go all night without getting tired!"

Then I'd look at her like she had twelve heads and she's explain that arvo meant afternoon.

I had to admit, sleeping all day and partying (or working) all night did have its perks. She always knew about the best parties and met the coolest people. I mean, most rock stars don't have bacon and eggs with coffee at 6am with the rest of the business world.

I slumped down in a booth and shrugged off my hoodie.

"Evenin' Sam!" Emma exclaimed as she plopped down on the opposite end of the booth.

"Hey" I said flatly, not in the mood for friendly conversation.

"What's up your bum?" Emma asked intrusively. She wasn't one to mess around with small talk. I liked that about her. We never talked weather or random chit chat. Neither of us cared about that bullshit.

I shook my head. "Bad fucking day."

She nodded. "Been there. Last night was my night off, ya know? So I went to this rave downtown, and this bloke had the nerve to grope my ass three different times!" She exclaimed loudly.

I laughed. "Did you kick his ass?"

She smiled, "Better. I met up with his girlfriend in the bathroom… at least I thought she was his girlfriend, they were making out all night… anyway, I met up with her and told her to watch out because he had given me herpes. Girlfriend or not, the look on her face told me he wasn't sleeping with her that night." She laughed.

I smiled wider. I knew I liked this girl. "Thatta girl!"

She nodded. "So what's your bad day about?"

The smile fell from my face. "I guess you could say its boy troubles."

She nodded. "Freddie, aye?"

I looked up, surprised that she knew.

She shrugged, "The arvo girls were talking about it. I don't know why they're all so surprised; I seen it coming since… well, since I've known ya."

I stared at her open mouthed. "Oh... yeah… wait, you did?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, all the other girls swore it'd be him and Carly, but not me. I knew it'd be you. Lou knew too, ya know."

I huffed a little. "Well, the other girls were right."

Emma blanched, "What?"

I sighed again, "I guess-" My voice cracked and I cleared it and started again, "I guess Carly had some major realization when she was gone about how she never saw what was right in front of her, and that she had this epiphany that he was the man of her dreams."

Emma shook her head quickly, "So what? He's with you now. She missed her shot. You snooze you lose Carly!"

I shook my head. "No. They deserve each other. She's exactly what he wants. She's who he's always wanted."

She looked horrified. "So he dumped you? That miserable, good for nothing piece of sh-" She started yelling, other customers were starting to notice her volume.

"SHHH! NO! He didn't dump me!" I whispered loudly. "He just… he doesn't think it's a date, this dinner thing that they have tonight, and it totally is, and that's okay. I'm just… letting her have him. I'm stepping down." I said, defeated.

"You have got to be fuckin shittin me, Sam." She said disbelievingly. "You're 'stepping down'? What are you, the fuckin dethroned Miss America? You don't 'step down' as girlfriend to a guy, that's fucking ridiculous!"

I puffed out a breath, not knowing what to say and seeing her point a teeny, tiny, little bit.

"Sam! Are you listening to yourself? This isn't you! If someone came in here and tried to steal your shoes, would you let them?" She said, getting angrier by the moment.

"No." I mumbled.

"Then why the fuck are you letting someone come in and steal your boyfriend?" She accused.

"It's not 'SOMEONE', it's Carly! And "it" wasn't mine to begin with! He's always belonged to her, whether Carly knew it or not!" I said loudly.

"Bloody hell, Sam! Wouldya cut out the martyr bullshit! Yes, Carly has done a lot for you, and yes, she is a good person and deserves good things, but does that mean she deserves to take away the one good thing that's ever happened to you?" She questioned.

I pondered it for a while.

Emma sighed. "Listen, I gotta get back to work. Can I bring you something?" She asked.

"My eushe would be great." I said.

"Cheeseburger with extra pickles and chips with mayo. C'min up!"

I frowned and was about to correct her when she said, "Sorry. Fries. Really gotta get used to that." She punched me lightly on the arm.

No awkward hugging either. I think I might really like this girl.

I sat back and contemplated Emma's comments. Was she right? Did I really think it was okay to give Carly the one good thing that has happened to me since she became my best friend? Would she really back off if I told her I had feelings for him, or would she hold her ground and fight for him, like I was too weak to? Was I too late to fight for Freddie or was he already head over heels for Carly?

Emma brought my food and I lost myself in the greasy goodness for a moment. I was brought out of my revelry by a group of guys laughing loudly across the restaurant. I'd seen them in the diner before. I didn't know them very well; they usually came at the end of my dinner shift. They were older than me, maybe in their early 20's. There were four of them. A big, bulky redhead who looked like he was a body builder, a super thin guy with long blonde hair pulled into a pony tail, a guy with a buzz cut wearing a marine T-shirt, and a dark-haired guy wearing a Seahawks hat. As I looked over at the table, I noticed the guy with the hat glance over at me several times and then look back at his friends quickly and then turn red.

He reminded me of Freddie. He even had the cute scruff like Freddie gets when he doesn't shave for a day or two.

I caught him looking at me two more times before I called Emma back over.

"What's the deal with that crew over there? Do you know them?" I asked and nodded with my chin to the party in question.

"Oh yeah, they come in here all the time. Sometimes they come in before they go out drinking; sometimes they come in after they've had too much. I've actually been out with them a few times. The redhead there is kind of dodgy with the pickup lines, but they're all harmless." She said.

I nodded. "Who's the one with the hat?" I asked.

"Ummm… that's Steven. Nice bloke. Real shy, very sweet. In school to be a cop, I think." She said, taking my empty plate off the table and rushing off back toward the kitchen.

"Thanks." I said after her and she raised her free hand in a wave of 'no worries'. After the guy with the hat looked at me again, I decided what I was doing that night. Throwing some money down on the table, I got up and walked toward the boys.

I pulled a chair out from a nearby table and sat down at the end of the booth.

They all stared, waiting for me to say something. I just smiled.

The big redhead spoke first, "Did you need something?" He asked and then cocked his head to the side. "Cuz I think I got what you need."

The rest of the guys at the table groaned and rolled their eyes, and I burst into laughter.

"That's amazing! Does that actually work on live girls?" I asked.

The boy in the hat, Steven, let out a sarcastic "Ha! He wishes."

The redhead retorted, "Oh, cuz your ladies man skills are so epic."

Steven grumbled and blushed again, while the other two guys were still shaking their heads.

"Well, I was wondering what you guys were doing tonight." I looked at all of them, but looked at Steven last, letting my glance linger. He was even cuter up close. He had big green eyes, and a sweet smile, and the most adorable dimple on the left side.

All of the other guys looked at each other and shrugged. "We're just gonna go grab some beers and play pool. You should come with us!" Said marine T-shirt guy.

"Yeah, definitely, I can show you how to hold the stick." Said the cheesy pick up line redhead.

"Just ignore him, we all do." The blonde ponytail guy said.

I nodded, "Okay. I… I'm not really old enough to drink though… is that a problem?" I asked, seriously hoping that it wasn't.

Cheesy redhead chuckled. "Nah. We got you covered. Steve's not 21 yet either. I'm Andrew, by the way." and he stuck his hand out for me to shake it.

"Sam" I said, shaking his hand, and then the other guys introduced themselves. Matt, the blonde ponytail guy, Jeremy, the marine T-shirt guy, and Steven shook my hand last.

There was an awkward moment as we all sat there in silence, but only lasted a few seconds before the guys started talking about the food and where they'd had the best thing they'd ever eaten. I easily joined this conversation and even got a few suggestions for where to go for some kick ass BBQ.

Emma dropped off the check and pulled me aside.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" She asked.

I shrugged. "What?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You know what. You're trying to rebound from a relationship that both parties aren't even aware is over?" She said disapprovingly.

I shrugged again. "I'm not rebounding from anything. I just want to get drunk and these boys are gonna help me do that. You said yourself that they're harmless." I said, pulling my hoodie back over my head.

She tsked.

"Fine, Sam. Get completely off yer face. Lord knows you deserve a drink, but don't make any rash decisions when it comes to boys tonight, okay?" She said.

I rolled my eyes. "I promise I won't head to Vegas." I said and walked off.

"I'm serious!" She shouted after me.

We pulled up to the bar and the guys opened the glove box and pulled out a black sharpie.

"Ok, you two stay here, I'll be right back." Andrew said.

Andrew, Matt and Jeremy got out and walked inside the bar.

I sat in the car, looking around and wondering what they were doing.

"So, why the sudden need to go drinking with random guys?" Steven asked me from the passenger seat.

I sighed. "It's a long story."

He shrugged, "I got time."

I was about to tell him when Andrew came back out of the club and sat in the backseat with me. He pulled out the sharpie and grabbed my hand. I yanked it back and he laughed.

"Feisty. I like that in a woman." He said, wiggling his eyebrows

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm gonna draw the stamp that I have on you and Steve-o's hands. Then you two are going to go around back and wait for a bunch of smokers to go back inside, you flash the bouncer your stamp and he'll think you just left for a cigarette." He said expertly. Something told me they did this often.

I nodded, kind of impressed by their ingenious.

After the artwork was complete on both mine and Steven's hand, Andrew went back in, and Steven and I walked around to the back of the bar where there was a large group of smokers.

"Oh good, we just have to wait till they're done and we can get in behind these guys." Steven said, pleased.

I nodded and we stood there awkwardly for a few moments.

"So… you were going to tell me that long story?" He asked.

I huffed. "My best friend thinks she's in love with my boyfriend, except she doesn't know he's my boyfriend because she's been out of town for the last month, and this boyfriend and I have always seemed to hate each other, so my best friend thinks we still hate each other, so she didn't think it was a big deal to go on a date, which is where they both are right now, except my boyfriend doesn't think it's a date and it totally is, and he's been in love with her since the 8th grade, so chances are he will fall head over heels for her, and that's why I need a drink." I finished and sighed again.

"Wow. That's a lot of information to get in 30 seconds." Steven said with a chuckle.

I scoffed. "That's a lot of information to get in a lifetime." I said.

He nodded. "You work at that diner, right?" He asked, shuffling his feet back and forth.

I nodded.

He continued. "Well, I think I've seen the people you're talking about. The guy has brownish hair, about this tall?" He said and gestured Freddie's height with his hand.

"Yep. That's Freddie." I said.

"And the brunette girl is-" He trailed off.

"The gorgeous one that I can't hold a candle to? That's Carly." I finished.

Steven shook his head. "I can already tell you vastly underestimate yourself." He smiled.

"No. I'm a realist. She's gorgeous, am I wrong?" I asked.

He scoffed a little. "My opinion on Carly is irrelevant to what I just said."

I raised my eyebrow. "See?" I said, using his avoidance as an answer.

"'See' nothing. Just because your friend is pretty doesn't mean you 'don't hold a candle' to her." He said, shrugging. "You don't give yourself enough credit."

I shrugged, "So what… are you saying you think *I'm* pretty?" I asked, kicking the ground a little. I realized I was fishing for compliments, but I couldn't seem to care.

He chuckled. "Yes. I think you're very pretty. Beautiful, even…" I looked up at him, biting my lip, wishing so much that it were Freddie saying these things to me, or wishing that I didn't care that it wasn't Freddie standing here with me in the misty Seattle weather.

He sighed deeply, "Okay, I think they're going in, let's go."

We followed the smokers into the bar without any drama and I breathed a sigh of relief once we were in.

"STEVE-O! SAM! OVER HERE!" Andrew yelled over the crowded bar.

Steven grabbed my hand as not to lose me through all the people to the other guys at the bar. He held my hand a little longer than necessary after we got to the other guys and I had to break it away.

"So, Blondie, what's your poison?" Andrew asked.

I raised my eyebrows and clicked my tongue. "I'll have 2 vodka shots and a strawberry daiquiri, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me Blondie, kay?" I asked with my teeth clenched.

"No problem, doll face." He said and walked over to get the bartender's attention.

I blew out my breath. "That guy's gonna get punched in the face by the end of the night."

The guys laughed.

"THAT- I'd like to see." Jeremy said, smirking.

The conversation was easy and light as I pounded shot after shot and then washing it down with the tasty daiquiris. I beat every single one of those guys at pool, and they turned around and whipped my ass at darts.

After my 4th… or was it 5th daiquiri, I don't know I'd lost count, I the guys were giving each other worried looks.

Steven pulled me aside. "Maybe you should slow down, Sam. You've had a lot to drink." He said gently. I wanted to be angry with him for telling me what to do. I wanted to tell him to fuck off and do another shot. But instead, I felt like this is what Freddie would be telling me if he were here. He'd be taking care of me the same way that Steven was.

UGH! I just wanted Freddie out of my head for one fucking night! Well, if this much alcohol wasn't going to do it, then I might as well stop now.

I nodded slowly. "You'reright. I'vad too much." I plopped down on a bar stool and rested my head in my hands. Steven sat beside me.

"I'm sorry you don't think that you're as pretty as Carly, Sam. I'll bet you anything that Freddie doesn't think that way." He said.

I felt so frustrated. Here I was sitting next to this gorgeous guy who was sensitive, sweet and telling me all the right things. And all I could do was feel sorry for myself that it wasn't Freddie.

No. Fuck that. I would get over the bastard. Here and now. I would force myself to like this cute boy.

I looked up at him and smiled. "Thanks."

He smiled back and I leaned in to kiss him.

He pulled back and I was left puckering up to air. Humiliated doesn't begin to cover how I felt.

I put my head on the bar and prayed that the earth would just open up and swallow me right then and there.

"Sam. It's not that I don't want to kiss you. There are just too many reasons-" He started.

I lifted my head. "Jus. Stop. Rightthere. I dontneed to hear your reasons." I slurred.

"Listen to me. First of all, you're drunk. Like, really, stupidly, ridiculously drunk. Second, you're in a relationship, whether you think you are or not. And thirdly-"

"How muchlonger is this fuckin list?" I complained.

He smiled. "Thirdly- even if the relationship IS over, you still love him. I don't kiss girls who are in love with other guys." He shrugged. "Been there, done that. Too much heartache."

I nodded. Even if I thought his first two reasons were dumb, I had to respect the last one. I should have set a similar rule myself.

I started losing pieces of the rest of the evening. I remember throwing in a few bucks on the bar tab and Steven shoving the extra 20's back in my back pocket telling me I had paid too much. (True sign of a good friend, right there.) But I don't remember leaving the bar or getting into the car at all.

I remember pulling up the apartment building and the guys all giving me their numbers in case I ever wanted to go out again. Andrew told me I was a "fun, sexy, bitch" and I'm pretty sure the guys had to hold me back from climbing over the backseat and punching him in the face. Steven was laughing pretty hard. He told me that I should call him if I ever wanted to talk about anything and I hugged him good-bye.

As I was approaching the building, I saw Freddie's car pull up and he got out quickly and rushed for the apartment. Was he finally coming to find me? How long was their fucking date?

I hid in the bushes to see if I could overhear some of their conversation.

I couldn't hear anything because the fucking apartment I was hiding under had some sort of enormous air conditioning unit right above my head.

I sat and watched and it looked like Carly told Freddie to wait. He turned around to face her and she leaned in to kiss him. I couldn't stand it anymore. He was MY boyfriend, and Carly needed to get her prissy, little, perfectly glossed lips off him.

I pushed through the bushes and intended on making a grand scene, but I tripped over the roots and instead just made a lot of noise.

"Who's out there?" I heard Freddie say, sounding kinda pissed.

"Sam?" Carly asked.

"Yeah, Carly, it's me. Sorry I interrupted the goodnight kiss." I said, my voice dripping in sarcasm.

"Sam, you're drunk." Carly said, annoyed.

"Ding Ding Ding! Carly's a geeeeniusss!" I said, pointing my finger in the air.

"Sam-" Freddie said, like he was trying to warn me about something. I didn't care right now. I was pissed.

"Oh, Freddie" I said, touching his smooth cheek. "You're not a nice boy." I said, hitting him hard, but not nearly as hard as I had wanted to.

"SAM!" Carly admonished, and then huffed. "Let's get you inside."

"FINE." I said, wanting this night to be over. But before I could move, I could feel the nausea catching up with me. This was not going to wait until the bathroom upstairs. "Hang on a sec."

I bent over and took aim.

"Sam, no!" Carly yelled a second too late.

Perfect aim. Right all over her shoes.

_Ha! That's what you get for kissing my boyfriend._ I internally mused.

"SAM!" Carly screamed.

Then I missed some time again, because the next thing I knew, I was laying down on Carly's couch, with Carly brushing a warm washcloth over my face. I must have said something, but the voice I heard correcting my assumption that it was Carly, shocked my eyes open.

"Oh! Why are you here?" I asked

"I… I could go if you want me to." He said.

I told him it was fine. It was more than fine. I was beyond happy that he was here. He told me to take the pills and I did, even though the instinct was still there to tell him to stop bossing me around.

I leaned my head against him, just wanting to go back to yesterday, when there was no Carly, there were no guys at the bar, and it was just me and Freddie.

When he asked me where I went, I immediately got defensive. What right did he have to ask where I'd been?

I shrugged, "Bar."

"What bar served you?" He asked, skeptically.

I shrugged again, this time being honest. "Dunno. The guy bought me the drinks."

"What guy?" He asked, sounding REALLY pissed. I tried to stay calm.

"The guys. You know, the guy with the hat." I tried to clarify. For the life of me, I couldn't remember any of their names right now.

Freddie got up and started walking around the room, looking even madder.

"No, Sam. I don't know which guy with the hat." He answered, seething.

I lost my cool. "Oh, so you're Mr. I Can Date Whoever I Want, But You Can't."

I looked like I'd slapped him with my words. "It was a date?" He asked softly.

I calmed down a little. Well, good. At least he doesn't like the taste of his own medicine.

"I dunno fit wassa date. I dint really like em." I said, being truthful. I don't think it was a date, and I couldn't get Freddie out of my head long enough to consider whether I could like him like that.

Then Freddie asked why I went to the bar. Was he really so ignorant?

"BECAUSE FREDDIE. You were on a date with Ms. Perfect Ass." I stated.

He sat down in front of me on the coffee table. "It wasn't a date, Sam. I told her that first thing. She cried and ran to the bathroom."

I looked up, surprised. "Really?"

He smiled that adorable crooked smile that I loved so much. "Really."

I smiled back. Good. He didn't want to date her. Good. Good. Good.

Wait. I had seen them kissing!

"Then why was she kissin you?" I said, poking him in the chest.

He put his hands up, "I know that looked bad, but I swear that was her kissing me, and she had the wrong idea. I was about to tell her so before you made your presence known."

Fairly sated with that explanation, I leaned back in the couch and closed my eyes.

My state of consciousness fluctuated for a while. I remember puking violently and the next thing I knew I was standing topless in the guest bedroom with Freddie looking at me in a very, very good way.

He licked his lips and I pushed up against him.

"You can have me… if you want me." I whispered in his ear, nearly begging him.

"I don't think that's such a great idea, Sam." He whispered back, his breath giving me goose bumps.

Fucking rejection. Twice tonight. No good. No good.

I flopped onto the bed and lifted my foot. "Fine. Shoes. Off." I huffed.

"Please?" I asked, after he gave me a look.

After he was done, I lifted my hips so he could help me get my pants off. He hesitated.

"I won't give any funny stuff. Jus help me." I said, still pissy that he wasn't caving in.

He pulled the jeans off my body and his fingers were like hot trails on my legs. It made me want him so fucking badly.

I pulled him down by his shirt to kiss me, hoping to crack his self control.

After a second of feeling his tongue in my mouth, he groaned. "Not here, Sam. Not tonight. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning." He said, kissing my forehead.

"I love you." I said loudly, before slipping into unconsciousness.

A/N

Sooooo. That's what Sam was doing that night. Sorry this chapter took so long. Sickness and injury came to every single person in my family. (I'm currently on vicoden for pulling a neck muscle. Owww.) Hopefully everyone heals and I can get the next one out faster.

Leave me some love… in the form of a lengthy review.


	22. To be, or not to be,,,a manwhore?

A/N

I don't think that "I'm Sorry" cuts it does it. As time went on, I just dreaded and dreaded and dreaded coming back to this chapter. I don't know why it was so hard, but I hit a writer's block. No, not a block, a fucking brick wall. Hopefully I'm past it now. *Crosses fingers*

I would like to defend my absence a little though, lol. I have been going though several tests and will be having some minor surgery at the end of the month. Shouldn't be too long of a recovery. Send some good healing vibes my way though.

Also, you can blame The Twilight Saga: Eclipse for the delay. I picked up my Edward obsession again. That's all I have to say about that. : )

As always, thanks to my amazing Beta, Emma, (you rock my world!) I feel like I need a recap for people who don't feel like re-reading chapters. K, Sam was drunk and Freddie took care of her. She admitted that she loved him and passed out right as Freddie was leaving the guest room. And that's where we are…

Chapter 22

FPOV

To be or not to be…a manwhore

I turned around, pressing my back against the door and slid down, sitting on the floor. I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated that I couldn't tell the girl I loved that I loved her, and I couldn't tell my best friend that I was with even with her. How did this all get so complicated so fast? Maybe I was right to never date either of them for so long; things were so much simpler then. I had this hormonal fucker in me locked up in a cage, I was blissfully unaware of how fucked up Sam's life was, and I was completely oblivious to Carly's self involvement.

Then I thought about Sam's smile when I played with her hair, and the fun, witty banter we consistently had, the way she kept me on my toes at all times, her adorable giggles she made when I tickled her, and then my mind took a trip to dirty thought-ville and I remembered how fucking sexy she looked with her mouth around my… yeah, I was right to date her and release the hormonal fucker from the cage.

She was my everything now. She was my source of lust and my source of affection, but mostly my source of completion. I needed her to feel whole. God, I sounded ridiculous. It's a good thing Sam couldn't hear my inner monologue or she'd be asking me if I was sure that I was born a male or if there had been some genital surgery involved.

I must have fallen asleep because the last thoughts I had registered were in the pitch black, all of a sudden I was jerked awake and was assaulted by the bright sun coming in from the window after an absurdly hung-over Sam opened the door.

"Unnnnggghhh. Mooove." She moaned as I fell into her feet. "Gotta Puke."

"Well, good morning to you too, Princess Puckett." I said sarcastically, and followed her to the bathroom.

"You don't-"_ Vomit._

"need-"_ Vomit._

"to see this." _Vomiting violently_.

I rubbed her back and held her hair as I sleepily rubbed my own eyes.

"Nothing worse than what I saw last night." I said through a yawn.

She groaned. "I didn't puke on you did I? Did I at least aim well?"

I laughed, remembering her aim onto Carly's shoes.

"Yes, Sam, you aimed perfectly."

"Good." She said as another wave of nausea swept over her and she heaved into the toilet.

"Kay. I think I'm done." She said, getting up and swishing her mouth with mouthwash.

"You need to get rehydrated. I'll go get you something."

She nodded.

I kissed her on her forehead just as Spencer walked by the open door to the bathroom. He raised his eyebrows at me and tightened his lips into a look of disapproval.

He gestured for me to head to the kitchen with him. I sighed heavily, knowing that this talk would have to come eventually. May as well get it over with now.

Sam shut the door behind me and started up the shower.

I followed Spencer to the kitchen and he pulled out several glasses from the cabinet and the orange juice from the fridge and filled them all up. "Sooo… what's new?" He said knowingly.

I blew out a breath and ran my hands through my hair. "You know, don't you?"

He took a swig of his juice and put it down. "I probably don't know the whole thing, but I do know that she's in love with you."

My eyebrows shot up and my mouth gaped open. "How do you know that?" I barely whispered.

Spencer shrugged. "Sam told me."

My mind was reeling. So it wasn't just random drunken rambling. She really did love me. Wow. I felt the idiotic grin taking over my face; almost laughing I was so euphoric.

"What else did she tell you?" I asked, unable to hide the pure joy in my voice.

Spencer was not impressed. "Nothing. Because then the doorbell rang, and you showed up to take out MY little sister on a DATE." He deadpanned. The smile fell from my face immediately.

"Spencer, it's not like that. I didn't mean to lead Carly on, and I told her right off the bat that it wasn't a date." I explained.

He shook his head, "She sure as hell thought it was a date when she left here. You let her think it was a date for at least a few days. Not cool, man. Not cool."

I sighed and nodded. "I know, but rejecting anyone is not something I know how to do. I still don't think I did a very good job last night telling Carly that I didn't want to be together that way. She tried to- no, she did- kiss me at the end of the night before Sam stumbled in." I rubbed my hands over my face remembering the night and trying not to think about the fact that people were going to get hurt once all this was out in the open.

Spencer chugged his juice and then wiped his mouth. Then he held his hands out. "Okay, let me get this straight. You and Sam had some sort of crazy revelation while we were gone. You're obviously more than friends now."

I nodded, in agreement with him so far.

"Then Carly calls you tells you that she wants to go on a date and that she finally sees you the way you've been dying for her to see you for years, and you agree."

I interrupted, "I really didn't think she wanted to go on a DATE date, I thought it would just be like us going to dinner, like we do all the time.."

Spencer raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. "Bullshit."

I was about to argue, but he cut me off. "Even if you aren't going to CONSCIOUSLY acknowledge that you were aware that it was a date, you knew damn well that CARLY thought it was a date, and you let her think that for WAY too long."

I huffed, but nodded begrudgingly, acknowledging that he was right.

"So, then you go on this pseudo non date with Carly, and tell her what? That you're not interested in dating her? THAT probably went really well." He laughed sarcastically.

I was not laughing, but I did nod.

"So, she obviously didn't believe you because she tried to kiss you at the end of the date, and that's when Sam came back from wherever the hell it is that they serve 18 year old minors and proceeded to puke."

I nodded again.

"And you're really not interested in Carly romantically?" He asked, squinting is eyes as if this piece of information was impossible to understand. I guess from an outside perspective it would be. From Spencer's point of view, he'd left a month ago with me hopelessly obsessed with his sister and hating her best friend and came home to witness me taking care of Sam and kissing her on the forehead while I rejected his sister.

What a difference a month makes, eh?

I nodded again. "I… I'm in love with Sam." I said softly while shrugging, as if to say, "I couldn't help it". I could feel the smile coming back onto my face as I thought about how she loved me too. I couldn't wait to tell her.

Spencer smirked a little at me. "Ahh, young love. That's **so** adorable." He stated in a baby like voice.

I blushed; hating that Spencer was being a tad condescending about the whole thing.

He chuckled, "Well, I'm happy for you. Finally getting some action. And not with my sister to boot. But-" We heard a door opening and we both looked up anxiously to see who it was.

The gorgeous brunette that was on Spencer's couch last night sashayed into the room, all breasts and hips jiggling everywhere. It was entrancing.

Hey, I might be blindly in love, but I'm not fucking blind.

She almost danced over to Spencer and kissed him on the cheek. "Good morning, baby!" She cooed in an incredibly annoying nasal voice. I nearly cringed at how the voice did not match the girl in any way.

I watched as Spencer stiffened as well, but leaned towards her and lightly smacked her ass.

She squealed a bit. "Did you pour some juice just for me, baby?" I wanted to hit the mute button. How could Spencer stand this?

"Sure did, Charity."

She slammed down the cup. "For the last time, it's Chastity!" She whined, offended.

"Sure it is." Spencer mumbled and had to bite my cheek to stop from laughing.

"Ugh! I should have known better. Fucking guitarists." She said and stomped away.

Spencer looked at me and smirked, while I just shook my head.

A few minutes of listening to random slamming, Chastity was effectively walking about the door, flipping us the bird the entire way out, and slamming the door behind her.

I looked over at Spencer, "How can you stand girls like that?"

He shrugged. "Did you see her ass?"

I laughed. "Yeah, but did you hear her voice?"

He laughed with me. "Yeah, it was pretty awful right?"

I sat back; sipping juice and Spencer started up the frying pan and pulled out some eggs.

"I mean, what do you think the kind of girls come to our shows are like? It's unlikely that I'm going to run into a Harvard grad at 2 a.m. at a random club after we play a show, ya know?" He said, plopping the eggs onto the hot pan.

I nodded in agreement again, thinking of all the girls that he'd brought home. They were all ridiculously hot, but I doubted any of them knew how to add past 20.

"It's not like I'd have time to date a "real girl" anyway. I mean, with the band finally getting signed, we'll end up touring and recording, and it would just be selfish."

I shook my head, "I don't think that's it Spence. I think you just enjoy being a man whore. Not that I don't envy your mad skills, I just don't think I could handle your lifestyle."

He chuckled. "Says the man who's dating one girl and fucking her best friend." He said teasingly.

I knew he didn't mean for the statement to sound so harsh, but it felt like a slap to the face.

"I'm not dating Carly, and I'm not fucking Sam." I said menacingly.

Spencer looked taken aback. "Whoa whoa, I meant no harm, I know you're not dating Carly, just giving you a hard time… though I'll admit that you not sleeping with Sam is kinda a surprise. Especially since you're in LOOOOOOOVVVE."

I was about to come to her defense when we heard a knock on the door.

"Could you get that?" Spencer asked as he flipped the eggs.

"This conversation isn't over." I warned.

He smirked at me. "Oh, I know, little man, you're going to fucking kiss and tell me if it kills you." He replied smugly.

I muttered on the way to the door, annoyed that he was focusing on the sexual aspect of things. I mean, I should have been expecting that, but it pissed me off that he was assuming that the lust was the most important fact.

I opened the door to see another stunning brunette standing in front of it. Seriously, did he just have them on call? When one leaves, another one shows up to fill their place? This one looked a little different though. While Chastity was dressed in a frayed jean miniskirt and a homemade cropped t-shirt that was off the shoulder and showed off her obnoxiously pink bra, this woman was dressed in a tight gray pencil skirt and a black button down blouse with tall black high heels. She wasn't even looking at me, but instead on her very latest version of the Blackberry, furiously typing away.

"Spencer Shay?" She asked, disinterestedly.

"Uh, no. He's inside, come on in." I opened the door and she strode in confidently, as if it were her house.

"Who was it?" Spencer called from the kitchen. At this, the woman looked up.

"It's Rachel Kent, Spencer, your personal assistant."

"Oh, Hey!" Spencer turned off the burner and rushed out to the living room.

He extended his hand, "Wow, so you'll be the one controlling my life from now on. I'm Spencer."

She shook his hand professionally. "Not controlling, Spencer, organizing."

He smirked, "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to control it, too."

"Hmmmm." She replied as if she were bored and started clicking away on her blackberry again.

Spencer looked at me confused, as if he couldn't understand while this woman wasn't responding to his charm.

I liked her. A lot.

She pushed a final button and then looked up. "Okay, well, I just wanted to introduce myself. I have several things to do today to prepare for this new position, so if you need anything, here's my number." She handed him a business card.

He followed her to the door. "So, I can call you if I need anything? What about a dinner date for this evening?" He asked smoothly.

She huffed. "If you need anything from your ASSISTANT, I will do it. If you need anything personally, I suggest you find a strip club and start tossing your ones."

She turned on her heel and walked out of the apartment, leaving Spencer with his jaw open. I swore I heard her mutter, "Narcissistic musicians" as she marched down the hallway.

I collapsed in laughter onto the couch, while Spencer collected himself.

"I like her, Spence. I like her A LOT." I said through the tears of laughter.

"Whatever." He said annoyed, then changed topics, desperate to not discuss the fact that the first woman since 1994 had rejected him. "So, before, what I was saying was that while I'm really happy that you and Sam are fuc-... whatever…" He paused and smirked at my warning glare, "Is that Carly is you guys' best friend. You owe it to her to tell her. It's not right to keep this from her."

I nodded solemnly, knowing he was right.

"I know, Spencer, you're right. You're absolutely right."

"Right about what?" Sam chimed in, scaring the shit out of me, plopping down at the breakfast bar.

I looked over at her and bit my lip. "About needing to tell Carly. We- we have to tell her." I answered.

"Tell Carly what?" Sam asked, blinking furiously.

I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, guys, tell me what?" Carly asked curiously, stepping into the living room.

The silence in the room was deafening. Sam was avoiding everyone's gaze, and I was avoiding Carly's.

Finally Spencer broke the silence. "Well, I'm going to be… not here…"

Carly frowned at him confused and looked back at me. "What's going on?" She asked, taking in my appearance, and recognizing that I was still in last night's clothes.

"Freddie, did you sleep here last night?" She asked, surprise and shock coloring her words.

I looked over at Sam who was still looking at the floor and decided that I would be the one to tell Carly.

I took a deep breath. "Yeah, I did. Listen, Carly, I- We need to tell you something." I said, gesturing towards Sam.

Sam was staring at the floor and was furiously chewing on her lip.

I was starting to get a little pissed that she was leaving me out in the cold here. I mean, I was willing to say the words, but this was just as much about her as it was about me. I really wanted her to at least look at me, so that I could catch a glimpse as to what was going on in her head.

Carly perched herself on the barstool next to Sam and glanced nervously between the two of us. She looked as though someone was going to tell her that we had cancer or something.

"Did something bad happen to Sam last night?" She asked anxiously, still switching her gazes from Sam to myself. I shook my head no, and Sam continued to stare blankly.

"C'mon guys, just tell me, the suspense is killing me."

I rubbed my neck furiously and took a deep breath, more nervous than I'd been in a long time. "It's… it's nothing bad… I don't know why either of us didn't tell you sooner, but Sam and I, we…"

All of a sudden, Sam broke out of her coma-like stare and blurted out, "I kissed Freddie last night. But it didn't mean anything. I was drunk. He was a gentleman."

I jerked my head towards her and my jaw dropped. How could she? How could she chicken out like that? Why was she so afraid of our best friend's reaction?

I tried to reign in my anger, but I was having a really difficult time faking calm. What was so wrong with me wanting to be with Sam and not wanting it to be a secret?

As my mind was flipping out over Sam's blatant lie, Carly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh! Well that's no big deal; Sam kisses a lot of people when she's drunk. No offense, Sam." She laughed.

Sam mouth hardened in a tight line. "None taken, you're right." She said, bitterness tainting her words.

Carly continued, "Besides, it's you, Freddie! Sam wouldn't ever kiss you sober if her life depended on it." She said, jokingly.

My mind had had enough for one day. Between Spencer's assumptions about me, Sam's indifference at keeping us a secret, and Carly's denial that Sam would ever kiss me of her free will, I was done.

"Yeah, well, it's been a weird morning. I'm going to go back to sleep. Later." I said harshly, not making eye contact with either girl and left the apartment, slamming the door behind me a bit harder than absolutely necessary.

It took seven minutes and 23 seconds for the timid knock on my door to occur. I didn't want my heart to pump wildly when I looked through the peephole and saw it was Sam. I wanted to be pissed at her. I WAS pissed at her. But I knew if I opened the door that she'd be able to break me with one simple look. So I stared at the door trying to decide what to do.

After a whopping 21 seconds, I opened the door. Because it didn't matter how long she wanted to keep me a secret. As long as she wanted me at all.

A/N I know. It's not very epic, but we're getting there, I promise.

PS. I think they get to do it next chapter. I THINK. No promises….


	23. Close

A/N You guys are gonna hate me so hard. I can feel the hate already coming.

Or…you can blame Aussiemma. I asked her if I should split this chapter up, and she said yep. Yeah. It's totally her fault. But don't break out the pitchforks and torches. There are reasons. AND She is writing the best story ever (yep, better than mine), and you really need to check it out.

Also, if you're here because she told you to shoot your foot, I apologize. I don't condone violence…but she's a great pimp, non?

Chapter 23

Close

SPOV

I knew it was shitty to chicken out like that. I knew this. When Freddie first started to reveal our secret relationship, my brain was sort of relieved, thankful that I wasn't going to be the one who had to form the words that admitted that I was with the object of my best friend's desire.

But then as he started stuttering and trying to form the words, something snapped. I needed more time. I didn't want to ambush Carly with the information; I wanted a chance to warm her up with the idea. I needed to grease the wheels so that things would be presented to her in a more positive light.

Obviously, I didn't have time to convey all of this to Freddie before he outed us, so I made up some bullshit "secret" that the old Freddie would have felt the need to confess to Carly.

I didn't expect my past experiences to be shoved in my face, though. I knew that I was more apt to kiss random boys, or rather, allow them to kiss me when I was drinking, but for Carly to be so dismissive of the idea of me kissing Freddie was sort of… no, it was pretty downright offensive.

I mean, admittedly, from her perspective, she'd only known us to communicate when absolutely necessary and even that was filled with contempt and disdain. She couldn't possibly understand how things had changed until someone filled her in, and I wasn't about to let anyone do that until I could gently convince her that I didn't hate Freddie as much as she assumed.

Which brings us full circle to where we were when I interrupted Freddie's almost confession.

Freddie looked annoyed and disgruntled. He told us he was going back to sleep and rushed out of the apartment, not meeting my gaze even though I was pleading for him to understand with my eyes.

Carly looked over at me and I softened my expression.

She shook her head, "What's his deal?" She said, pointing with her thumb to the door in a lighthearted fashion.

I shrugged as if I couldn't care less and moved toward the fridge to get something to drink. My head was fucking killing me.

"Hey, can you pour me some juice?" Carly asked, plopping down on the barstool.

I got both of us a glass juice and forced my brain to form the words that I'd been dying to ask her.

"So… how was the date last night?" I asked, trying to appear completely disinterested, while my insides were busy tying themselves into knots.

She shrugged again. "Not what I expected."

I waited for her to go on. When she didn't, I offered a probing, "Oh?"

She smiled weakly. "He's… not into me anymore." She said, squinting as if the words didn't make sense.

I tried to think of how old Sam would have reacted to that.

"Wow. Freddie has lost the one piece of good taste he had left, huh?" I responded, kind of agreeing with my own jab at Freddie's taste.

Carly laughed, "Sam!" She admonished.

"No, I don't think he's lost his "good taste", I think he's placed his affections on a more willing target." She said, while wiggling her eyebrows, as if she were sharing juicy gossip with me.

"Any idea who the unlucky girl is?" I asked, positive that she had no idea.

She shook her head, "No! He refused to talk about her!"

I frowned at this. I mean, I knew that he hadn't told her anything about us, but I figured that he would have least talked about me… in an abstract way… the way I was about to talk about him…

"Did you see him with anyone while I was gone?" She asked, almost chomping at the bit to find out who the girl could possibly be, and feeling her urgency to know why this girl was more important than her.

I carefully chose my words, "I haven't seen him with anyone other than me." I said, avoiding a lie, and maybe even placing a seed of clue inside Carly's head.

"Hmm." She said and drank her juice.

"So… what's new?" She asked, smiling at me, and making me smile back out of habit. Carly was just a happy person. It was easy to feel happy around her.

I braced myself and took a swig of juice, wishing it was vodka to give me some liquid courage, even though I was sporting a massive hangover. "Well, I am definitely seeing someone." I said confidently.

"SHUT UP!" Carly said, excitedly. "Don't hold back! Tell me everything!" She gushed.

I smiled; genuinely happy with Carly's enthusiasm and trying hard not to let the pessimistic thoughts take over. The thoughtsthat were wondering how enthusiastic she would be if she knew who I was seeing.

"Well, he's sooooo not my type. It sort of just happened, but I've never been happier in my entire life." I looked up and Carly nearly had tears in her eyes.

"Oh, Sam! I'm so happy for you! What's he like? What's his name? Where did you meet? Have you guys like done… stuff?" She asked, blushing deep red.

I laughed, knowing that while Carly was a total prude on the outside, I knew she was just as pervy as me on the inside.

"I'll start with the one you really want answered." I said suggestively, and internally breathed a sigh of relief that I'd be able to dodge the other questions as long as I continued to give her my sordid details.

She leaned in. "Deets. Now." She said, smiling eagerly.

I laughed. "We've definitely done… stuff." I said, wiggling my eyebrows as well and giggling a little while Carly turned beet red.

"It's been MOSTLY innocent. We've kissed a lot, and when we're in the same room and we're alone, we can't keep our hands off each other. He's walks this ridiculously perfect line of unbelievably sexy and total dork, and the things that come out of his mouth when we're making out…" I fanned myself theatrically. "My god."

She wrinkled her nose. "Does it feel fake when he says stuff like that? Like, I think it would feel too porno-ish."

My eyes opened wide. "And what would YOU know of porno-ish?" I asked.

I didn't think it was possible for her to turn any more red. "Well, you know, I don't know… but I can imagine it would feel like… icky… I guess. I just can't imagine a guy I really like saying something such as "Oh baby, I wanna do you" to me. I'd feel all self conscious."

I was about to have a lot of fun making Carly feel like she wantedto crawl out of her skin. I smirked, "Oh no, Carly. That's not how it's said." I got off my bar stool and leaned in to her ear, barely whispering one of the phrases that ran through my head on a nearly continuous loop, "God damn, Samantha. I want you so much."

She flew off the stool and squealed, holding her hands over her ears while I laughed hysterically.

She settled back into her stool and put her hands down. She looked at me with a curious expression, "He really said that to you?"

I nodded, still smirking.

"Well, I guess that's not so icky." She said decisively.

"No. It's not icky. At all. But more than the filthy mouth and obscenely talented fingers-" with that piece of information, her eyes bugged out of her head and her mouth opened to ask a question. "Later." I said, holding up a finger. "More than all that, he makes me feel… beautiful. Respected. Loved." I whispered the last part.

Carly's expression softened from intense curiosity to one of almost longing.

"Have you said "I love you" yet?" She asked.

I hesitated, "I'm not sure. There's a bit of miscommunication right now, which I actually need to go clear up, but I know I love him." I replied confidently.

Carly jumped up and gave me a big hug. "I'm so happy for you, Sam! You deserve this, you really do."

I hugged her back, reveling in happiness that my friend had for me. It was bound to be short lived.

"Now, we just have to find you a man to say dirty things to you!" I winked.

She blushed again, "Sam!"

She announced she was going to take a shower and I went to do exactly what I told Carly I needed to do. Clear up the miscommunication that desperately needed to be cleared.

Standing there in front of his door, feeling the nerves in my stomach churn, was a tad unsettling. Itwas so reminiscent of that time a month ago when I'd stood in this very spot.

After what felt like an eternity, he flung open the door and completely avoided my eyes.

"What?" He spoke gruffly.

"I need to talk to you." I said confidently. I knew he'd be pissed. Hell, if I were in his position, I wouldn't have even opened the door.

He sighed and moved to the side so I could come in.

"Where's your mom?" I asked, looking in the kitchen and realizing I didn't smell the customary pancakes, eggs or bacon.

"She's at a nursing convention in Spokane until tomorrow night." He answered shortly.

I sighed. "Okay, I know you're upset."

"You do, huh? You know I'm upset?" He said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I know, I would be too if I were you, but you need to hear me out."

"No, Sam, you need to hear ME out! I don't understand what I have to do to prove to you that I want to be with you!"

He stopped and blew out a breath of his own, walking toward his room.

I followed him, pissed that he was walking away from me.

"You're mad at me because I can't understand that you want to be with me? Because I don't understand how you feel about me? Really? Because I have plenty of reasons to be confused Freddie!"

He turned around, "What? What have I done to make you doubt that I want you this much?"

I didn't want to talk about it this way, but it was coming out, like it or not.

"Last night I told you I loved you when you put me to bed, and you pretended not to hear me." I admitted quietly, and looked at the floor, preparing myself for rejection.

He sighed. "I heard you, but you were drunk. Really drunk. You actually told me twice." He said and I looked up to see him smiling crookedly.

"I did?" I asked, confused, only remembering the time that I said it as he was tucking me into bed.

"See? I didn't want to talk about that until I knew you'd remember the conversation." He said.

I simply nodded, understanding that it wasn't a rejection or him ignoring me, it was just him respecting me… like always.

He collected himself. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blow up at you. This is just… frustrating."

I nodded. "It IS frustrating. But I wanted to explain why I did that back there."

He sat down. "Okay, I'm listening." I explained to him that I wanted some more time to warm Carly up to the idea, and told him about the conversation we'd had before I came over here… well, minus the part where I told Carly that he talked dirty to me.

"So, what are you saying? You want more time to warn her?" He summarized.

"Just one more day, Freddie. One more day." I asked, feeling confident that it would only take me a day to prepare her without giving it away completely.

His expression finally softened. "Okay. One more day."

I walked over to the couch and sat on his lap, straddling him. "Thank you for taking care of me last night."

He grunted sourly. "I'm still not happy about the fact that you went out with a bunch of guys and got drunk. Do you know how dangerous that could have been?"

I smiled at him. "Awww… is little Freddie darling worried about my safety? You know I can take care of myself, right?"

He frowned again, "Sam. I'm serious. I don't want you doing stuff like that anymore."

I nearly snorted. "Yeah. The controlling boyfriend thing? It doesn't suit you."

"What is wrong with me not wanting my girlfriend to get drunk with a bunch of college guys? That doesn't seem so extreme to me!" He defended.

"How would you feel if I wanted to get drunk with a bunch of sorority sluts?" He said, turning the tables on me.

I'll admit, a large wave of jealously came over me, but it was quickly replaced with laughter.

"What is so funny?" He asked, getting more and more irritated.

"Just the thought of you getting drunk, and going out to a bar. With random girls. It's just so… not you." I giggled.

"Hey. I could party if I wanted to." He said, defensively.

I grabbed his chin affectionately, "Of course you could." I said, a tad condescending.

He grumbled and I leaned in to kiss him, pushing my tongue into his mouth and groaning at how good he tasted; wanting to taste him everywhere. Feeling like it had been too long since I'd felt his naked skin.

He nipped at my lip with his teeth and I moaned, my nerves feeling like they were on fire. He kissed my jaw and nipped at my earlobe, which made the throbbing below my waist increase in intensity. "We need to stop." He whispered in my ear.

I grunted twice in quick succession to indicate that I, in no way, wanted to stop. He felt too good, and too much had happened in the last few days. I wanted to feel connected with him the way that only I had connected with him a while longer.

He chuckled at my resistance and kissed me sweetly on the forehead causing me to sigh. He knew just how to tone down the lust, dial up the sweetness.

"Let's go somewhere together today. You and me, no pretending, no explaining, just us." He suggested.

I smiled widely. "Definitely."

He smiled back. "The beach?"

"I'll go find my yellow bikini." I said seductively.

He bit his lip and moaned.

I leaned in to kiss him again, softly and sweetly this time.

"I'll be back this afternoon." I said through our peppered kisses.

"Kay." He said, resting his head on my chest, squeezing his arms around me, making me feel safe. I ruffled his hair and pushed off of him; heading back to Carly's to try to plant more clues into her lovable, loyal, self absorbed head.

FPOV

So, I didn't need to be as pissed as I thought. She had a very valid reason for interrupting me. She wanted one more day. One more day was very, very doable.

But this meant that this was our last day. Not literally, I mean, I fully intended on being with Sam no matter what Carly's reaction was going to be, but today was the last day in the relationship we had now. And as much as I hated keeping secrets from anyone, this secret we had did have its comforts. This secret was just Sam and I in a little protective, sexy bubble. I wanted to bask in it. To thoroughly enjoy it before we had any additional angst to deal with.

All of sudden, I was hit with inspiration like a wrecking ball. I nearly sprinted to my laptop in my room and my fingers flew across the keyboard. Something in me wanted to capture this moment, right now. I needed to put it into words, so I'd remember this feeling forever. I poured out every thought, emotion, action, look and smile that had happened in the last few weeks. It was amazing, like falling in love with Sam all over again.

I looked up at the clock and was shocked to findthat 4 hours had passed by, when it only felt like 5 minutes. I was about to get up from my desk and gather my things ready for the beach when it hit me. I wanted to tell Sam I loved her, I _really_ wanted to tell her, and I wanted to do it today. Right now even. Something in my subconscious told me that if I were to finally admit to her that I loved her, I would also want to show her just how much. I would want to have sex with her. No, not that I wanted to, I already wanted to. Something told me that I'd be ready to.

I blew out a breath when my stomach clenched anxiously with the thought of having sex with Sam. I mean, I'd seen enough porn to know the mechanics of it. I had fooled around with Sam enough to know her body. I don't know why the thought of actual sex was freaking me out so badly.

This was the one time in my life I wished that I had a real dad in my life. I really could have used a sex pep talk.

SPENCER! My mind registered and my body shot up to go across the hall.

I knocked twice before walking in.

Spencer was sitting on the couch, slurping cold cereal and watching TV.

"Hey, Fredd-o, my main PIMP, what's up?" He greeted me sarcastically.

I rubbed the back of my neck, wondering how I could make this as least awkward as I possibly could.

"Hey. Umm... Where are Sam and Carly?" I asked, praying that they weren't here so I could hurry up and get this conversation over with.

"Out. Getting mani's and pedi's or something to do with waxing."

I breathed a sigh of relief and plopped on the couch next to him.

"Ok, I need some advice."

"Shoot." He said, not looking away from the TV.

I hesitated, not sure where to start.

He looked over at me and a smile crept over his face.

"You want to ask me about sex, don't you?" He asked slowly.

I blushed and he laughed.

"S'ok, bro! I've known you since you were 13. I knew this day would come eventually! I'm just really, REALLY stoked that I don't have to have this talk with you knowing that it's my sister you want to bone."

I blushed deeper and groaned in embarrassment.

"What do you want to know?" Spencer asked seriously, all traces of teasing gone.

"Umm… I don't even know what to ask." I paused. "I guess… I guess I just don't know what to expect, and that's pretty nerve-wracking."

Spencer nodded. "Yeah, nothing you can do about that. You just gotta dive in. Metaphorically speaking, of course." He said, trying to hide his smirk.

I ignored his double entendre and continued. "It's not that I'm worried that I won't know what to do, I think I got that part down, or I least know that hormones will lead the way… I just... I really love her. And I want to make sure she knows that that's why I'm doing it."

"Wow, man. That's deep." Spencer said, wiping a fake tear from his eye.

"You suck, Spencer." I said, getting up and heading toward the door.

"C'mon! Freddie, get back here!"

I turned and plopped on the couch.

"Look, there's really no magical advice to give. It's just doing what you feel comfortable doing. Truth be told, I'm kind of envious."

My eyes nearly popped out of my sockets.

"Don't go thinking what you're thinking, sicko, she's still LIKE a sister to me." He dismissed.

"What I mean is, you're going to feel nervous no matter what, and so is she. But you're going to feel comfortable with each other because you're in love." He shrugged. "I may be a player, but I'll be the first to admit that sex is way better when it's with someone you're in love with. There's no comparison."

"Then why be a player if it's better when you're in love?" I asked him, intrigued.

"Because all that drama that you got going on OUTSIDE of the love nest? Yeah, I don't want anything to do with that." He laughed.

I could see his point. A little.

SPOV

After a mind numbing morning of beauty with Carly "C'mon, it'll be fun" Shay, I was more than ready for a nice afternoon with Freddie.

Seriously, who thinks that pouring hot wax on your skin and then ripping the hairs out is a good idea? Is it NEVER a good idea. Add that to the specific REGION that they do that to? NOT COOL.

The "beautician" (more like sadistic torturous bitch that should be working in a dungeon somewhere), told me that the pain was minimal and that I'd forget all about it 5 minutes after it was done. Lies. Vicious Fucking Lies.

But as far as planting the clues, I think I did an alright job. I didn't every mention Freddie and "my boyfriend" in the same conversation, but I did make sure to put across to Carly that I thought Freddie was a good guy and that after what he did for me, I really respected him. I felt like maybe when we told her tomorrow, it wouldn't seem so sudden. That maybe she would put two and two together and that it would make sense.

When we got back to the apartment, Carly went to take yet another shower, this time complaining that she wanted to get all the "post wax oil" off of her. The thought of hot water touching any areas that the wax had touched made my eyes water. Maybe Carly was tougher than I gave her credit for.

I slipped into the guest bedroom and pulled on my bathing suit throwing on a pretty black sundress and flip flops. I grabbed my sunglasses, a towel and slipped out the door, almost skipping to Freddie's door. I got in half a knock before he opened it and grabbed my hand, pulling me down the hall quickly.

He waited until the elevator doors were closed before he roughly pushed me against the wall and kissed me passionately, one hand holding me around the waist and the other resting on the wall beside my head. I kissed him back hard, pushing my tongue into his mouth and entangling it with his. His hand slipped from my waist, cupping my ass and squeezing gently, as he groaned into my mouth.

When the elevator came to a stop, he pulled away just as abruptly and adjusted his crotch. I smiled smugly as the doors opened and he gestured his hand out into the lobby, "Ladies first."

I smoothed my hair and walked out calmly, as if a super hot grope session did not just occur in the elevator.

We drove to the beach in relative silence as he held my hand across the console. He would lift it occasionally and kiss it softly. I wanted to make fun of the cheesy nature of it, but I just couldn't. It was too sweet. And let's face it. Freddie WAS cheesy. And I loved that about him.

The day was perfect. It was a rare sunny day, and there was a light warm breeze that kept it from being too hot. We swam for a while, and then Freddie and I played like kids in the sand, building a gigantic sand castle, complete with a moat, and then I insisted on burying him in the sand, which he vehemently refused.

"You might be my girlfriend, but you're still Sam. I would not put it past you to bury me out here and leave me, coming back only when you want to fulfill your sexual needs." He said with a sexy crooked smile.

I sauntered up to him, giving him my best seductive look, trailing a finger down his chest to his stomach, and when I reached the top of his swim trunks and he closed his eyes, I pulled the waistband away from his body and poured a bucket of sand down his shorts.

Because, hey, he's right. I am Sam.

He gasped and then groaned. "SAM!"

I laughed and ran into the water. "C'mon, Freddie, let's get you cleaned up." I purred.

He waddled into the water and when it was deep enough, I plunged under the surface and pulled the shorts clear off his body, knocking him off his feet and under the water with me.

I came up, his shorts in my hand, and he came up with a panicked expression.

I laughed and waved them over my head.

"Sam..." He said warningly.

I rolled my eyes and handed them back to him.

"Party pooper." I said, waiting until he was redressed and then wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my body close to his, feeling absolutely weightless in the water.

His arms surrounded me and I heard him sigh contentedly. The blissful feeling of being safe and happy overcame me.

"I love you." I said softly, not feeling nervous in the least. Because I did love him, and I wanted him to know. Even if he didn't say it back, even if he never-

"I love you, too." He whispered, kissing me gently on the forehead. "So much."

When two minutes ago, the atmosphere was light and playful, now it was intense and tender. Without a word, we walked to the beach, gathered our things and headed to the car. It was like what we were experiencing, we didn't even want to share with the strangers on the beach. We wanted it for us and us alone. I wanted to show him how much I loved him. I needed him to show me how much he loved me. And frankly, we'd be arrested if we were to show that much love on the beach.

FPOV

Hearing her say I love you, while conscious and sober, was amazing and exhilarating. But repeating it back to her was even more mind blowing. I knew I was in love with Sam, but articulating it to her only made it stronger. I needed to be alone with her. It was beyond a want, it was a physical need. The fact that she was that much in tune with me that we didn't even need to verbally express it was magnificent. I'm not sure I could have verbalized it even if I wanted to.

When we finally arrived back in the apartment, it felt different. The atmosphere was thicker, heavier, and tangible in some way. Like you might be able to see the electrical current if you looked hard enough. I wasn't the only one who felt it, either. Sam almost refused to look me in the eye, gnawing on her lip, like she does when she's nervous.

"Sam, I-"

"Freddie, I-"

We both spoke simultaneously and then stopped, smiling a little through our discomfort.

"You first." Gesturing with my hand for her to go ahead.

"K... well… I want to tell you that I want to wait, until you're totally ready. I don't want you to feel any pressure from me. I know we've done this whole thing so out of order and not traditional, but-"

"I'm ready, Sam." I interrupted, my voice cracking as I felt the adrenaline coursing through my body.

She gaped at me. "You are?"

I nodded, "I mean, I'm ready if you're ready. Cuz we can wait if you're not, I agree that I don't want you to feel any pressure either." I replied hastily, not wanting her to feel like she had to because I wanted to.

She blinked furiously and her breathing sped up.

"Ok." She said, no louder than a whisper.

"Ok." I whispered back.

I took her hand and led her to my bedroom door, walking slowly. My heart was racing faster and faster, but my feet seemed to be stuck in mud, dragging along the carpet. I think it was my way of not wanting to rush a single moment of this, and knowing that the anticipation of this moment could possibly be just as sweet as the moment itself.

She closed the door behind us and we both stood lamely in the middle of my room, not knowing just how to proceed. I grabbed the remote to my stereo and hit play on the playlist I listened to earlier while I was writing. It wasn't overly romantic or cheesy, but it was mellow. It wasn't going to have _Let's get it on_, but it wasn't going to have any Metallica on there either. Something told me Sam wouldn't have appreciated a contrived playlist that included Boyz II Men's _I'll make love you_, anyway. As Kings of Leon's _Revelry_ played softly in the room, the awkwardness consumed me. It wasn't that I didn't want her; I was hard from the moment I said I was ready, but I didn't want her to feel like I was doing this because of my lust or hormones. I needed her to know this was because I was head over heels, madly in love with her.

"I love you." I said, looking in her eyes and taking the two steps that I needed to wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close to me.

"I love you, too." She said, her voice shaking.

I internally panicked a bit. "Are you sure, Sam? We don't have to, I swear-" I started, not wanting her to feel scared in any way.

"I'm sure." She replied a little louder, though the shaking was still there.

"I'm just… I'm just a little nervous…" She said from the crook of my neck, where she placed a soft, open mouth kiss.

I shuddered at the sensation. "Me too." I admitted.

She looked up at me. "That's kind of nice." She smiled.

I laughed once. "It's nice that I'm nervous?"

She nodded. "Yes." She kissed my neck again and I held her tighter to me.

"It means it's important to you."

I hummed in agreement, happy that Sam was nervous as well, knowing it meant the same thing to her.

She continued kissing up my neck and jaw and her hands reached in between us to unbutton my shirt, her fingers gently touching the exposed skin that was revealed with each button. My hands felt frozen on her back, holding her tight and reveling in the feeling of her hands on me. When the last button was released, she ran her hands up my abs, over my pecs and under the shirt on my shoulders, effectively pushing the shirt down my arms. I was forced to release my grip on her as she eased the shirt off and pushed it to the floor.

She bit her lip and looked up at me as her hands traced over my chest and stomach. I got lost in the depth of the emotion she had in her eyes. The emotions I was feeling were almost overwhelming. When I leaned in and kissed her softly, my hands suddenly came to life, skimming up her thighs and dragging her dress up. By the time I got the dress to her waist, she lifted her arms in the air and I pulled it off in a fluid movement, throwing it down on the floor next to my shirt.

I stepped back slightly to take in the full picture of my beautiful girlfriend. She was a sight to behold. The girl I loved with my whole heart was standing in front of me in my bedroom, wearing a tiny yellow bikini. The same tiny yellow bikini that a few short days ago, I had forced myself to stop thinking about.

I smiled and hummed at the memory.

"What?" She asked, amused.

I licked my lips. "I was just remembering the last time you wore this bathing suit. I had to mentally slap myself about 400 hundred times and tell myself not to think about..." I pulled her closely and tugged on the string that was tied around her ribcage then ran my fingers down her spine. She gasped and shuddered. I gently spun her around so her back was to me.

"How easy it would be…" I brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed the spot where her neck and shoulders met before I pulled the string that was tied around her neck, causing the yellow bikini to fall to floor with the rest of our clothes.

"To get you naked." I finished, kissing up her neck and pulling her earlobe into my mouth and nibbling it lightly. Sam liked my teeth. I knew she liked it when I played into my baser side and was a little rougher with her. My teeth nipping at her made her moan and arched her back, pushing her ass into my groin. I groaned, my hands running down her bare sides and resting on the swell of her hips.

"You're so perfect for me, Samantha." I whispered, needing her to believe me.

She whimpered and my fingers found the ties of her bikini bottom of their own accord. Before I could stop myself, they were pulling on the loosely tied knots. I wondered idly how her bathing suit stayed on if the ties were this loose, and then wondered further if she tied them this loosely with this event in mind.

After the knots were the released, the bottom fell into the pile of clothes and Sam was completely nude and perfectly gorgeous. She turned around shyly and I openlygaped at her naked form. I didn't think I'd ever get over how much her body affected me. I would have been perfectly satisfied to stare at her all evening, but it seemed she had other plans. Other plans that I was more than happy to accommodate.

A/N I'm so sorry. But I'm at 5.5K words and you know how wordy I get when people start doing fun stuff! BUT…here's my reasoning. If, for some reason, people don't like lemons (which, for me, is like saying that you don't like brownies. I mean, brownies are fucking delicious, who the fuck doesn't like brownies? But, there are in fact, people who don't like brownies. Weird-o's. :P) then they will be able to completely skip the next chapter, which will be nothing but the exclusive lemon. KK? I don't know when it will be up. I have surgery and a HUGE test this weekend. I'll do my best. I know you guys understand. You know why? Cuz you guys are the best.

BETA'D by my S.F.A.M (Sista from anotha mista) Emma, otherwise known as Aussiemma. She threatens baby otters if you don't review. I'm not that cruel. But I will place a curse on your ability to orgasm, if you read and don't review.

Really, what's worse, losing your ability to orgasm or killing baby otters?

Hmm…that's like philosophical debate question…


	24. Making Lemonade

A/N

I have a playlist for you all if you want it. I wrote this listening to:

Fall for you - Secondhand Seranade

The Reason - Hoobastank

Your Guardian Angel - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

Underneath it all - No Doubt

Lullaby - The Spill Canvas

My Love - Sia

Something - From the Across the Universe Soundtrack

BUT MOSTLY: If you could only see - Tonic. If you've never heard this song, or only just barely remember it, go find it and read the lyrics. It's PERFECT for this and the next chapter.

Okay, my lovely, devoted, beautiful readers. THIS is a lemon. That means that there is GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT ahead. THIS is NOT intended for anyone under the age of 18 for legal purposes, and legal purposes only. I hold this chapter near and dear to my heart, as I don't believe that sex is something that is "dirty", "wrong", or "morally bankrupt". You won't be able to convince me otherwise. Well, sometimes it's dirty, but in a good way. But these guys aren't there…yet. Cue the porn music. Enjoy.

Chapter 24

Making Lemonade

Previously, on What's Right in Front of you…

"I would have been perfectly satisfied to stare at her all evening, but it seemed she had other plans. Other plans that I was more than happy to accommodate."

SPOV

As we locked eyes, the affection I saw in his gaze was almost crushing. It was loving. It was tender. It was adoring. It was perfect. The room was thick with anticipation as I stood there naked before him. I was nervous, that was an understatement. But I couldn't deny that this was right. It didn't feel forced, it didn't feel contrived, it just felt right.

I tried not to be self conscious as his eyes finally raked over my nude body. He'd never seen me like this in the harsh light of day. The previous two times we'd been intimate, it was in the evening, in the soft muted light of the bathroom or the bedroom. Here in his bedroom, the sun shining through his open window, and without the assistance of the sheer covers he'd used on the lamps last time, he was able to see every line, every curve, every flaw. It was incredibly intimidating.

I clasped my hands awkwardly in front of me and continued to dart my eyes around the room, wondering when he would touch me. I finally made eye contact with him again and what I saw there was drastically different than what I'd seen a minute ago.

It was hungry, it was lustful, it was animalistic. It thrilled me. I licked my lips and his jaw clenched and flexed. I couldn't wait for him to touch me any longer.

No words were said as I stepped closer and untied his board shorts. I gazed up at him as I eased the shorts off his hips and allowed my hands to caress his ass and up his sides, resting them on his shoulders. He kicked off his shorts and placed his hands gently on my hips, pulling me closer but still not close enough for our bodies to touch.

I continued to look into his eyes, smiling widely at the amount of lust in them, feeling my stomach tighten even more in anticipation, and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him softly on his lips. I pulled away and allowed my eyes to look intently at his body. He was so gorgeous. His smooth, hard chest sloped perfectly into firm abs, and his thick erection stood out proudly, nearly touching my body. I continued kissing down his chin and neck, hearing his breath hitch a little when I sucked the skin into my mouth gently. I kissed and licked my way down his chest, my hands tracing down his arms. I was kissing his belly button when I realized my position had become uncomfortable. I was nearly bent over, so I dropped gently to my knees, holding on to his hips to help me down. He groaned loudly, almost like he was in pain. It alarmed me, since I was barely even touching him.

I looked up, my eyes wide with worry.

"Are you… is this… okay?" I asked, suddenly unsure if I was doing something that felt good. I sat back on my heels.

His eyes were squeezed shut and his fists were clenched. Surely, this was not good.

He let out a breath that he'd been holding. "I'm fine." He replied tightly, his eyes still shut.

"It's just… you… on your knees like that… god Sam, you can't even begin to imagine how sexy that is…" He moaned.

I smiled when I realized that he was just visually over stimulated. I'd made him visually over stimulated. My inner goddess rejoiced.

"Freddie…" I said, noticing for the first time how sultry my voice had gotten. I sounded sexy.

He opened his eyes and looked down at me, shuddering a little.

"I love you." I said, my hands tracing up his legs, keeping my eyes fixed on his. I sat up from my heels and placed hot, open mouthed kisses on his legs, on his thighs, on his taut stomach. I licked his belly button and his dick twitched, making the moisture below my waist increase and the tightness below my belly intensify. All the while, Freddie was gently running his fingers through my hair, stroking my face, my shoulders, my arms, whatever he could reach.

I looked up at him and his eyes were slightly hooded and fixated on my lips. I smirked. "Is there something you'd like Freddie?" I teased.

He swallowed thickly and panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his breaths.

"I need you to touch me, Sam." He pleaded.

"But I AM touching you." I said, my smirk widening, remembering the torture he'd put me through in the shower.

He groaned. "Please." He begged.

The tone of desperation in his voice made me wet with desire. To know that he wanted me, no needed me so badly, made me almost dizzy.

My teasing resolve crumbled and I took him into my mouth, reveling in his musky taste. He moaned loudly and thrust his hips into my mouth instinctively.

"God… Sam… soo… soo… good." He gasped.

The flutters I felt in my lower belly intensified beyond anything I'd ever felt before**;** I was literally throbbing for him.

I reached up and grasped the base of his dick and stroked what my mouth couldn't taste, and my other hand caressed his thigh, his hips, his ass, whatever I could reach.

He started breathing faster and faster, pushing himself into me minutely, while holding onto my head gingerly.

He grunted softly as I circled my tongue over the head and then plunged him into my mouth again with slight force.. His hand moved from the back of my head and stroked my cheek, softly, affectionately, lovingly.

"Sam… stop… I'm too close…" He pleaded, sounding torn about the decision.

I released him slowly, my tongue sweeping every last inch of him before I sat back and he shuddered, his mouth agape.

I stood up and kissed his chest again, just for the sake of wanting to touch him any way I could, for as long as I could. I couldn't get enough.

When I looked up at his face, he looked at me questioningly, biting his lip.

"What?"

"I… I was just wondering…" He stammered, his eyes darting around the room.

I tilted my head, trying to get him to make eye contact with me again. "Yeah?"

He blew out a breath and flushed deep scarlet.

"I want to… taste you." He whispered.

I whimpered quietly and my belly did another delicious flip, sending flutters throughout my whole body and releasing a fresh new wave of wetness between my thighs.

I'd never had that done to me, and I was tentative about it. Wouldn't I taste bad? What if he was grossed out?

I didn't answer right away, as the self conscious questions and the potential embarrassing answers raced through head. He took my silence for disinterest.

"If you don't want me to, that's-" He started, but I kissed him hard, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth.

He pulled away slightly and I gently held his lip in between my teeth, releasing it slowly, and he groaned.

"I want you to… as long as you really want to." I said, still anxious and self conscious.

He nodded and visibly gulped. He kissed me sweetly and walked me backwards toward his bed. I felt it hit the back of my legs and I pulled away long enough to sit down and then scoot back positing myself on the pillows, using my elbows to prop myself up slightly. Freddie didn't follow me onto the bed right away, but instead continue to stare at me from the side of bed.

"So beautiful." I heard him murmur. I smiled, knowing that he wasn't saying it to make me feel better, or even to compliment me, he was saying it to himself, appreciating me.

He finally climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees until he was near my legs. He sat on his heels and picked up my right foot, kissing the instep, then my ankle, my calf, the inside of my knee, my thigh, going higher and higher before stopping abruptly and starting over, kissing the other foot. I was panting by the time he got up to my left thigh, and cried out when he licked a sensitive spot there and nipped it with his teeth.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice shaking, his mouth so close to my center, I could feel his breath tickling me. It only fueled my desire for him.

"If you're sure, I'm sure." I panted.

"K." He said, his voice sounding nervous and anxious.

When he finally touched his tongue to my sensitive flesh tentatively, I lost all coherent thought.

FPOV

I wish I could say that epiphany hit me once my face was in between Sam's legs. I wished that these "hormones" that I figured would kick in once the moment arose would just take over and make me into the oral sex god that I wanted to be.

Unfortunately, all I felt was extremely anxious and incredibly nervous.

I could tell that she was as anxious as I was about it, though I had no idea why, all she had to do was potentially sit back and enjoy, but I appreciated that I wasn't the only one that was unsure about the whole thing.

She was nearly writhing under me, her body begging me to taste her, and it was by far the sexiest thing I'd ever experienced.

I stuck my tongue out hesitantly and touched it softly to her wet sex, and her body arched off the bed and she screamed loudly. I was so surprised by the reaction that I retracted my tongue into my mouth and sat back on my heels.

She sat up with me, her eyes flew up to mine and she bit her lip self consciously.

As I was processing the obscenely hot reaction that she'd given me just from one tiny lick, my mind started racing, imagining the reactions I could get from her with a more… vigorous tongue.

I pushed her back down and did what I should have done from the start. Just dive in.

Her taste was exactly Sam. Sweet, and slightly bitter, but pleasant. More than pleasant, it was divine. Knowing that I was tasting her arousal. Tasting what I did to her while she was sucking on me, it made me delirious with passion. I wanted to be inside of her so badly.

_Ignore dick, focus on Sam._

I licked and sucked, kissed and nibbled. Her hips flexed and released furiously, and I was right, the reactions from her were mind blowing. Far surpassing any reaction I'd ever gotten before.

I pulled her clit in between my lips and flicked my tongue over it, causing her to grab my hair and pull me further into her center.

"OH! Oh my GOD! Freddie!" She screamed.

Ungh. Hearing her cry out my name like that, in pleasure, pleasure that I was giving her… it was too much. My dick throbbed, reminding me that I was still awaiting my own release, after having been brought right to the brink.

_Ignore dick, focus on Sam._

I moved my hands which were at her thighs, to cup her ass and bring her further into my mouth. It was like I couldn't get myself close enough, couldn't lick her hard enough, couldn't taste her deep enough. It was almost as if I wanted to drown in her. She held onto the back of my head and whimpered loudly.

"I'm… I'm so close." She whispered.

I groaned, more turned on than I'd ever been in my life, my mind still trying to wrap around the idea that Sam was going to come in my mouth.

_Fuck Yes. I want it._

She panted louder and moaned quietly, her body tense with concentration.

_Fuck Yes. I WANT IT, NOW._

My mind screamed at me and my hands grasped her ass. Hard. She'd probably have bruises. But in doing so, she stiffened above me and I sucked her clit into my mouth again.

"OOH! FREDDIE!" She cried loudly. I kissed and licked gently as she bucked slightly, coming in my mouth, her fluids increasing with her orgasm.

I held her loosely as she came down, licking her softly and giving her clit one last kiss. She shuddered and hissed.

I looked up at her confused. "It's… It's really sensitive… r-right after…" She stammered, her face blushing, matching the beautiful flush she now had covering her chest.

I smiled and kissed up her body, pressing my body against hers and leaving kisses on her chin, cheek and ear, but not her lips, not knowing what the rule of etiquette for kissing was after oral sex. I mean, Sam hopped up and brushed her teeth afterward, is that what I should do?

Before I had a chance to ponder it any further, she pushed her tongue into my mouth and kissed me, moaning.

"I want you." She whispered, pushing her hips into my nearly bursting at the seams dick.

My breath hitched as I remembered why I was here.

"I want you, too." I murmured, kissing the crook of her neck and noticing that she was still shaking.

I pulled back, wanting to see her face when I asked this final time. There was no turning back. I brushed a wayward curl out of her face and stroked her cheek lovingly.

"Are you sure?" I asked, looking down into her piercing blue eyes and flushed cheeks, and swollen lips.

She nodded.

"And you're still on the pill?" I asked hesitantly.

She rolled her eyes.

"No, I want to get knocked up at the ripe old age of 18 by my secret boyfriend." She retorted sarcastically.

Words can't express how perfect it was that Sam could be Sam when we were both naked and pressed up against each other.

I laughed dryly and kissed her sweetly, my stomach in knots and I could still feel her body trembling beneath my likely trembling form.

I moved my hand from her cheek and trailed it down her body, tracing it down her chest, circling her nipple and remembering that I'd yet to pay her breasts the homage they deserved. They would have to wait, if I put this off any longer, I wasn't sure I would have the balls, so to speak, to actually do it.

My hand continued to move down her body, in between our stomachs and over her right thigh, lightly touching the soft skin where her leg and her sex met. I held my dick in my hand and lined it up to her entrance, a moan coming out of me when I felt how hot and wet she was, feeling her slickness glide over the head. It was literally heaven.

I looked up at her, and her eyes were half shut and she was licking her lips.

"I love you." I whispered harshly at her, needing her to understand the depth of that statement.

"So much." She replied, panting.

I pushed inside of her slowly, feeling her hot, wet tight walls squeezing me as I entered her. There is nothing on this earth that can prepare you for the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that permeates every cell of your body.

Neither of us were breathing, and I was sure that if she moved, at all, even a twitch, I was going to come.

I ground my teeth together and forced the words out.

"I'm close. So close, Please, Sam, don't move." I gasped.

I needed a minute. Because being in heaven takes some familiarization.

SPOV

I was so glad he needed a minute, because I need one too. I didn't want to be one of those girls that cried when she had meaningful, life changing sex. Those annoying, overemotional, ridiculously crazy girls that I swore I'd never be. But feeling Freddie push into me was nearly spiritual.

Feeling his weight in between my hips, his hand on my waist, and feeling his hard member pulsing inside me, made me want to weep with ecstasy.

The emotion I was being filled with was absolutely devastating, in the best way imaginable. I was never going to be the same after this. I didn't want to be the same after this. I felt complete, and whole. It was cliché, but I felt like we were two puzzle pieces that just fit together beautifully**, **perfectly.

After what seemed like an eternity, Freddie opened his eyes and relaxed his jaw.

"Okay." He whispered shakily.

"Okay?" I asked, not sure what he wanted.

"Move with me, Samantha." He murmured, kissing me softly as he pulled out of me slowly and pushed back in, making my eyes nearly roll back into my head.

He continued the soft thrusts, kissing me intermittently as we both gasped in amazement. I didn't remember sex feeling like this at all. This was paradise. This was better than ribs. This was better than pie. This was better than…

"Oh!" I cried, almost against my will when Freddie pushed into me slightly harder, hitting a spot inside me that made me want to claw his back. I restrained from doing so, wanting to keep this moment romantic and sweet.

Freddie was panting heavily, his kisses becoming less and less sweet**.** They became hungrier as his hands moved from my waist to my hip gripping me tightly. It was such a possessive, dominating gesture and I moaned because of it, loving so much that Freddie was gaining as much pleasure from my body as I was from his.

"UGH!" He grunted loudly as I lifted my hips up to meet his harshly, our pelvises grinding a little.

The coil that had begun tightening in me suddenly became even more tense and I began meeting him thrust for thrust, both of us racing toward bliss.

"Sam… I can't… I need to… oh god…" He cried.

His thrusts into me became frantic and powerful, pounding me deliciously.

I knew there wasn't enough time for me to come with him, but knowing that I was going to bring him to orgasm made me feverish with lust.

"Want you. Samantha. Need you. Love you. So much."

He stiffened above me, burying his face into the crook of my neck, pumping himself in and out of me sporadically.

He collapsed on top of me and we lay there for a minute, catching our breath. He went to roll off of me, but I grunted "uh-uh", and held him to me, not willing to let him go, not willing to break our connection.

He lifted his head out of my neck and looked into my eyes. He was smiling so sweetly, the tears threatened to spill over again.

I simply smiled back at him, pushing his hair off his forehead, which was coated in sweat.

Neither of us wanted to speak, either that or we couldn't think of the right thing to say. There weren't words.

He leaned up to kiss me and it was better than anything that could have been said. This kiss said, "I love you. That was perfect. Thank you."

He finally rolled off of me and tucked me into his side; he played with my hair and kissed my ear, while I traced my fingers over his arm, while the other hand was interlaced with his fingers.

After what seemed like a blissful eternity, he leaned into my ear, "That was the most important, wonderful, beautiful thing I've ever experienced. Thank you." His words combined with his hot breath in my ear gave me goose bumps.

I bit my lip and nodded, not trusting my emotions if I spoke.

"I wish..." He started, whispering again. "I wish… I'd have lasted longer for you." He said, sounding disappointed.

I spun around to face him. "Don't." I stopped him.

"It was perfect." I whispered, meaning every word.

He shrugged and smiled. He looked like he wanted to believe me, but couldn't. He saw that I knew he doubted my words.

"It's just that… I know girls don't like it when a guy comes too fast."

"Tell me something Freddie," I whispered again, not knowing why we were whispering. It was almost like we didn't want to disturb whatever flawless moment had just occurred.

"If you could make me come in 30 seconds, wouldn't you feel really good about yourself?"

He made a face, "It's not the same thing."

"Would you?"

He sighed. "I would feel like a god."

"So, why do you think it's any different for girls?" I asked.

He raised his eyebrow, "You feel like a god?" He asked, smirking a little.

I smirked back. "Maybe. I sure did while you were coming."

He chuckled softly. "It's not the same, because even if I could make you come in 30 seconds, I could keep going until I eventually came. So, by going first, I kind of take your chances off the table." He muttered, embarrassed.

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, so you think we're done here?" I asked sarcastically.

He eyes opened wide and his mouth opened and shut, letting out small sounds of "Uh" and "I".

I giggled.

"We're not done here. Not by a long shot." I said seductively and kissed him hard, pinning him on his back.

"You've just opened Pandora's Box. I hope you can handle it." I said into his mouth.

"My god." He whispered. "I fucking love you."

A/N

Okay babies, that was a little fade to black and I apologize for that, but this chapter was all about the love and their first time. Not the hot smexxxing they are continuing to have. I have decided after I'm done with the story (which only has a handful of chapters left) I will be going back and adding some outtakes. The events that this chapter left out will definitely be one of them.

See? See how I did that? Made you want to come back even after the story is over? Eh! Pretty sneaky!

"**Beta'd" by the phenomenal SFAM Aussiemma. I say "beta'd" because she essentially co-wrote it with me, held my hand, and talked me through what makes sex romantic. If she starts telling us that there will be no lemons in her story because she can't write them, we need to call bullshit. :P (BTW, her story is KISS WITH A FIST and it's GAH-Amazing! Go find it.)**

**No threats this time. Just review to let me know I don't completely suck at lemons.*Looks up at you from my under my lashes and bites my lip.* Please?**


	25. Assumptions

**A/N You've all heard of Newton right? And his Law of Motion? "for every action, there is always an equal and opposite reaction." So most of you thought the last chapter was amazing and perfect and beautiful right? And what would be the equal and opposite reaction? Riiiiight. Buckle up. It's about to get bumpy. **

**Chapter 25**

**Assumptions**

CPOV

Everyone was being so weird. It felt like I'd stepped into an alternate universe. Aside from not wanting to date me, which was by far the weirdest thing to ever happen ever, Freddie was still being all cryptic about who he was dating. And then Sam was just as cryptic and weird at the salon, and now Spencer was totally weirding me out.

He was talking to his new assistant, who was in our living room, and he was acting like a Spencer from bizzaro land, which is what I had renamed this planet I was currently living on.

"C'mon, one little date!" He begged.

She stood in the living room clicking away on her blackberry and huffed, while I sat on our couch and watched the exchange.

"Spencer. I came back here because you told me you had an emergency. I don't want to go on a date with you. I will be your assistant. I will get you coffee, I will make your appointments, I will even SCHEDULE your dates, but I will not DATE you." She said firmly and tossed her gorgeous, long brown hair over her shoulder.

"Ok, fine, it's not a date; I need someone to assist me while I eat tonight." He pestered.

She looked up at him and clucked her tongue.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" She retorted frostily.

Spencer shook his head violently. "No! I just- I really want to spend some time with you." He replied softly.

She rolled her blue eyes and huffed again. "Ya know, you musicians are all the same. You all think that you're some mighty god's gift to women. Oh! Look at me, I'm a badass guitarist!" She mimicked childishly.

"You might think that I'm in this to become an assistant to a "hot rock star", but I couldn't give two shits about any of that! I have goals. I have dreams too! And it's not to become some sleazy guitarist's girlfriend!" She spat.

"Aren't you, though?" Spencer said smoothly, smirking at her. Okay, my Spencer was back.

"Ya know what, buddy?" She pointed at him angrily. "You can call your manager, and tell him that you need a new assistant, because this one quits!" She shouted and stomped toward the door.

"Rachel!" Spencer shouted, running after her. "Rachel, wait!" He yelled as he followed her out of the apartment.

And there goes my Spencer. MY Spencer would never chase down a girl who saw through his antics! He would simply move on to the next bimbo who hung on his every word.

What was with people today? Sam spent the entire time at the spa telling me intermittently about how great her new boyfriend was, and then would do a complete 180 and tell me how much her opinion about Freddie had changed. I mean, was this boyfriend of hers so amazing that he could change Sam's very outlook on the one person that annoyed her more than anyone? I was dying to meet the guy who had so drastically changed Sam in such a short time, I was seriously impressed.

Even Freddie had changed so much in the short time I'd been gone. I had no idea what Freddie was like in a relationship, since I'd never seen him in one the entire time we'd been friends, but it was clear to me now, that he was more confident, more sure of himself, and just all around, more attractive.

I tried my best to stop thinking of him that way, now that I knew he wasn't available to me, but it was hard. It would just be so convenient if he could get over this other girl and be into me again. He was one of my best friends. We could avoid all that awkwardness that occurred with Dylan and I. We could just skip all that "getting to know you" crap, and go right to the good stuff.

I blushed when I remembered what Sam had told me that her boyfriend said to her. It seemed so… dirty, but at the same time, I pictured Freddie saying it to me, saying MY name… I couldn't help the goose bumps that came over me. It was hard to imagine Freddie like that though, I had a feeling he would be shy and sweet. I can't imagine that he'd ever want to say that kind of thing.

After I had taken my shower and watched the matinee showing of "Days of our Assistants" in my living room, I was bored and Sam had already taken off.

I texted Freddie, wondering what he was doing and turned on The Notebook. I'm a sucker for Ryan Gosling, and that love story is just far too epic. After the movie was over, I checked my phone and still had no response from Freddie.

That's weird. I thought, frowning. He always responds to my texts.

I texted Sam, wondering how long she was going to be out, and put in another favorite chick flick, Dirty Dancing. 80's Patrick Swayze? Yes.

After that movie was over, I checked my phone again. Still nothing. I was starting to get a little worried. It wasn't like either of them to just avoid me completely.

I texted Spencer:

**Do u know anything about Sam/Freddie? They're not responding to my texts. Do u think they're ok?**

A few minutes later he responded.

**IDK kiddo. Give them some time. They'll talk when they're ready.**

See? Cryptic and Weird. Why would they need time? What the hell was he talking about?

Frustrated, I gave up and decided to go to bed.

* * *

*FPOV*

"We need to stop." I breathed, my hair sticking to me and the sweat pouring off my body. It would be kind of gross if I had obtained this state of perspiration any other way. But knowing that I was hot and sweaty because I'd just spent the last 12 hours in various states of pre or post orgasmic bliss made me not care in the least.

Sure, we slept… some. But it seemed like every time one of us would drift off, the other was waking up with desire overwhelming them. Sometimes the touches were soft, sweet and tentative. They were touches of true exploration and discovery. Other times, the touches were urgent, fervent and passionate. All of them were exquisite.

But now that the sun was coming up, I felt like the time in our little bubble was up. We couldn't put it off anymore.

She hummed in agreement and lifted her head to look into my eyes. Her hair was wild and sticking up in all directions. She looked exhausted, and I smiled knowing the cause of her exhaustion.

"You ready?" She whispered.

I kissed her forehead. "As ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

*CPOV*

I woke up, still as confused as ever, but a little less frustrated as I was the night before. Until I checked my phone. Still no messages. I was starting to get a little pissed that neither of my best friends thought enough to let me know they were okay.

I went into the kitchen and made myself a bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar and started eating it at the bar.

All of a sudden, Sam walked into the apartment. I was about to admonish her for not calling or texting, but Freddie was walking in directly behind her.

That's odd.

"Hey! Um, thanks for the text last night guys! I was really worried about both of you! What were you doing that had you so distracted that you couldn't even return a stupid text!" I shouted.

They both stammered and blushed and I let out a frustrated grunt.

I brushed it off and went to rinse my bowl.

"So, what are you doing here so early, Freddie?" Freddie didn't usually come over until later in the day.

"We need to talk to you." He said firmly.

This was yesterday's Déjà vu all over again.

I tilted my head to the side. "Ooookay."

I sat back down and looked at Sam. She wasn't looking as catatonic as she did yesterday, but she was biting her lip, something she does when she's really nervous.

"What's going on?" I asked, getting nervous myself.

Freddie looked at Sam, and Sam nodded at him infinitesimally. Like they had their own little language. Well, THAT'S weird.

Before I could process the action any further, Freddie blurted out, "Sam and I are seeing each other."

My mind completely emptied of all thoughts. I blinked rapidly at them, and tried to form a coherent thought.

Sam and Freddie. Freddie and Sam. It didn't make sense. They hate each other. They had to be kidding. Yes, that's it. It was a joke. Laugh Carly, laugh.

I began to laugh manically, hysterically. Tears came to my eyes and I looked at them again. They weren't smiling. They weren't laughing. Sam was biting her lip and Freddie was holding her hand.

Freddie was holding her hand?

Seriously? What planet IS this?

Freddie was with Sam? Sam, my best friend, the one girl that I trusted more than anything in the world. The one girl who truly knew how head over heels Freddie was for me. And she went after him anyway.

Freddie. The one guy that Sam thought she probably couldn't get. All the more reason for her to try and get him. To prove to herself that she could. I knew that every boy she'd ever hooked up with had a girlfriend. She didn't want the responsibility of having a boyfriend, but she wanted the attention. This was, no doubt, how she felt about Freddie. She wanted to hook up with Freddie while I took on all of the girlfriend responsibilities. Well, I was not about to let her hurt him like that. It was obvious just from the sweet and tender way he was holding her hand that he was already starting to fall for her.

"How could you?" I glared at Sam, wondering how she could hurt our best friend like she was. Wondering how she could use him like she used every other guy.

Her eyes snapped up to mine, full of tears and regret. She opened her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it again.

I didn't want to look at her anymore. I couldn't believe she'd stooped to this level. And I couldn't believe that Freddie had fallen for it.

"And you! I thought you had better standards than this! You should want more than… her." I said; my voice full of concern. How could he possibly be okay with just being someone's fool around buddy? Freddie was a hopeless romantic. He wasn't the guy who just wanted cheap thrills in the backseat of a car. I was so disappointed that this was the guy he was turning out to be.

"Carly! That's beneath you!" Freddie hissed at me.

I recoiled; shocked that Freddie would defend Sam's behavior. I guess she had gotten her hooks in him deep.

Sam was glaring at me, no longer full of tears, but full of rage.

"What did you expect?" She asked in an even, yet terrifying tone.

I blinked, not understanding the question.

"Did you just expect him to wait around for you? Did you just think you could keep him at your beck and call, giving him hope when there really was none?" She seethed.

I opened my mouth in shock. Sam was blaming ME for this?

Freddie interjected, "Hey! Don't make me into a lovesick puppy." He said to her, though not as angrily as the way he talked to me. "I knew that she didn't feel that way about me. Even when she didn't see me that way, I still wanted to be her friend."

Sam snapped her glare from me towards him. "Fine."

Freddie looked back at me. "This is ridiculous, Carly. We're all friends here."

I shook my head. "No, a FRIEND wouldn't do this." I spat at Sam, hoping to make her see that using Freddie was not something that I'd ever think was okay.

Sam took a step towards me, like she does when she is trying to intimidate someone. I should have been scared. She could probably kill me in one punch.

But I just shook my head. "I'm not scared of you."

She got in my face. "You should be."

I stood my ground. "Well, I'm not."

"We're so done. I can't believe I was ever friends with such a self centered, conceited bitch." She sneered.

I retaliated. "You're right. We are done. I can't believe I was friends with such a manipulative slut."

Sam pulled her fist back to punch me, but Freddie caught her hand.

"Sam, Sam, Sam, don't." He said, and he pulled her into him, holding her tight and whispering in her ear.

I stood, frozen in place, completely unable to move.

Finally, he kissed her head and she looked up at him over her shoulder and she nodded. She gave me one more cold glare and left the apartment. Leaving Freddie and I alone. It seemed I was performing my very own soap opera today.

He looked up at me, his eyes full of hurt.

"Carly, I thought you said you wanted to see me happy." He said, his voice almost breaking.

I sighed. "I do."

"Then you need to understand that I want Sam. Sam makes me happy." As he said this, I could feel how much he meant it.

I nodded, "I believe you." I said, unable to discredit the conviction in his voice.

"Then what is your problem?" He asked, more irritated than before.

"I don't want to see you get hurt." I said my voice full of concern.

He furrowed his brows. "How would I get hurt?"

Poor Freddie. So naïve. I hated that I was the one who had to tell him this. It was going to break his heart.

"Sam… she isn't right for you, Freddie." I started.

"She isn't like you and I. She wants… different things… out of a… relationship." I hedged, not wanting him to feel bad for what had likely already occurred.

Freddie closed his eyes and shook his head. "You don't understand anything, Carly. It's different with me."

This was going to be harder than I thought.

"Freddie, Sam uses guys. She's using you. She knows that you are too hung up on me to really be available to her and she likes it that way." I said harshly.

Freddie shook his head and smiled, letting out a single chuckle. "Wow. I don't even know what to respond to first."

I sat down and waited patiently.

He took in a breath. "First of all, Carly, I'm over you. You need to understand that. Whether or not I'm with Sam, it's irrelevant. Second of all, I can't believe how judgmental you are of your best friend. Especially considering the fact that you have NO IDEA what you're talking about. You're making assumptions, and they're wrong."

I was livid. Was he so blind that he couldn't even see her history; he couldn't even see what she was doing to him?

"I knew it'd be a shock. Hell, it was a shock to me, but I really thought of all people, you'd be happy for us."

I scoffed. "Why on earth did you think I'd be happy for you?" Not understanding in the least, why he would think I was happy he was being used.

He looked up at me. "If you truly feel the way you say you feel for me, then you'd let me go. You'd be happy for me. If you could only see the way she loves me, then maybe you'd understand."

I was awestruck. My mind was blank again.

"We're your best friends, Carly. Don't do this. Don't screw it up."

At this, I was furious.

"No, Freddie. You screwed this up. When you screwed her." I spat.

At that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the apartment, likely off to find his precious Sam. I just hoped he knew I wasn't going to be around to pick up the pieces.

* * *

**A/N. I know, I know. But I had to give you something to get the lemon taste out of your mouth.**

**It only goes up from here, okay?**

**This may be my shortest chapter yet, but I'm okay with that. It was short, but to the point.**

**I'm actually having a harder time with the A/N than I am with the whole damn chapter. Is iCarlyAngst running out of witty things to say? Nooo….**

**First things first, as always, Thanks to my P.I.C (partner in crime) Aussiemma, who writes KISS WITH A FIST. (Go find it if you haven't already…or find it again if you have and haven't reviewed, she's over there threatening your sex life).**

**I have a request for songs on my profile, go check it out and then PM me your suggestions. :)**

**Also, shout out to my other PIMP Axel100 who just wrote a GREAT one shot! Keep up the FANTASTIC work brotha!**

**And finally, thanks to The ****Earl of Sandwich**** (Greatest Screen Name Ever, BTW), who gave me the one of the best reviews I've ever had and may have psychoanalyzed me to a "T". "You may have the mind of a kinky teenage boy, but you clearly have the heart of an old-fashioned romantic." Wow. Truer words were never spoken. That's poetic.**


	26. Time

**A/N I had a hypothesis toward the middle of my story. I held out hope that it was incorrect, but my hypothesis was COMPLETLEY correct. Chapter 24 got a buttload of hits. Like, a BUTTload. But Chapter 25? My lowest hit chapter yet. My "lemon theory" holds true. People want to read a story until "they do it", and then they lose interest. Obviously, this is not completely true, or I wouldn't have you wonderful, devoted, psychologically deep, plot seeking readers left. Sorry, I shouldn't be bitching here, that's like yelling at the people who showed up for work about the slackers who didn't come in. **

**I just smiled when it happened and shook my head. Should made them hold out till the end, eh? Ah, no worries, I am almost finished with this little ditty. One more chapter after this and an epilogue. **

Chapter 26

SPOV

Time

They say that time heals all wounds. But time, in my case, was only making it worse. The more days that passed without talking to Carly the more substantial the gaping hole in my chest became.

For the first few days I felt liberated, still high on anger and self righteousness. During our first few words of the confrontation, I thought I was dead on about my fears. I thought that she was upset with me for going after the guy of her dreams. I thought that she was upset with me for keeping her in the dark. But then to tell Freddie that he should want more than me? Who the hell did she think she was, telling Freddie that he should have had higher standards than me? It cut me right to the core to insinuate that I'd never be good enough for him. And instead of wallowing in the emotional pain, I quickly replaced it with rage.

To say I felt chock full of wrath when I left the apartment was a gross understatement. I'd never been so thoroughly pissed in my whole life. The only silver lining was leaving Carly's face intact. Honest. It showed me that I could reign in the anger when I needed to… at least with Freddie's help. Because while I would have loved to feel the crunch of her pretty little nose under my fist at the time, I knew now, weeks later, that it would have made the deep ravine between us even more impossibly wider.

I had tunnel vision at the time, only seeing my fist and her face, like there was a bull's eye right in the middle of it. But when Freddie wrapped me in his arms and told me he loved me and that he wanted me to wait for him in his bedroom, it immediately pulled me out of that psychotic state. I rushed back to his room and threw myself on his bed, which still smelled like sex and Freddie, and I breathed it in deeply, the scent bringing back the delicious memories of the night before. It calmed me down considerably.

He came in moments later, sitting down next to me on the bed, shaking his head and flexing his jaw.

I sat up. "What did she say to you?" I asked, ready to fly across the hall and beat her down if she'd crossed a line with Freddie.

He continued to shake his head and had his eyes closed. "Don't worry about it, Sam. She has absolutely no idea what she's talking about." He seethed.

I furrowed my brows. "What? What doesn't she know?"

His lips made a flat line. "She made some really, awful assumptions about the both of us."

I waited for him to continue, but he didn't.

"And what were they?" I asked gently.

He opened his eyes and took a breath. "She doesn't think anyone can change." He said cryptically.

I pondered that for a moment. Then it all made sense.

"She doesn't think you're over her." I muttered. That makes perfect sense. She couldn't possibly think that Freddie could be with anyone else, because in her mind, he couldn't possibly ever get over her.

He nodded. "Yeah. That was one thing."

I contemplated it again. What about me did she think I couldn't change? The answer came before I could finish my internal question.

"She thinks I'm just fucking you. That we're fuck buddies." I stated as it were obvious.

He nodded his head.

I nodded back, in understanding.

It all made sense. She was angry because she thought I was using Freddie. She took the worst possible assumption about me and exploited it.

"Well. That's not what I expected at all."

Freddie nodded in agreement, rubbing his face, still looking very angry.

Not only did she assume that I was using Freddie, but she assumed that Freddie was okay with being used. She assumed that he was going along with whatever I was doing, and even defending it.

The anger was started to dissipate through my body. I was feeling less angry at her and feeling more sorry for her. She was only taking Freddie and I at our face value. She was only letting us be who she had created us to be in her head. That's not friendship, that's just delusional.

I've known enough fucked up people in my life to know that no one is simply one dimensional. Freddie was a nerdy dork, but he was also sexy and romantic. Mrs. Benson was a controlling, overbearing mother, but she was also an abused and neglected child who's making up for what she missed. My own mother was an abusive alcoholic, but it wasn't to say that that's all she'd ever been. This train of thought brought me back to the reason I'd met Carly in the first place, the bully, Jason. He was a class A douchebag, but he'd had my back a couple times in some fights in the trailer park. People don't fit into little pegs like she wanted them to.

Freddie interrupted my reverie by letting out a frustrated grunt.

"God, I'm so pissed! How is it possible that you're so calm?" He asked exasperatedly.

I smiled a little, remembering what had initially soothed me.

"I was just remembering last night." I said quietly.

He closed his eyes let out a deep breath.

"Wow." I watched his features relax and his breaths deepen.

"Wow." He repeated. "That's better than valium!" He said brightly.

I laughed; a foreign feeling after feeling so angry.

"C'mere." I whispered, pulling on his shirt to bring his lips to mine.

We were high on "valium" for most of the day.

* * *

It's weird that something as enormous as losing your best friend can seem inconsequential to the rest of the world. Nothing shut down, no one staged a campaign to make us friends again, and customers were still giving me just as much attitude during my shift as they always did.

The world just went on like normal. No one cared that my world was coming apart around me. I know not everything is coming apart around her, but when you lose a best friend it sure as hell feels like it.

I felt wretched and almost like I'd lost part of myself. I couldn't even face Spencer to explain what went down. I asked Freddie to look out for him in the hall so he could break the news that I wouldn't be staying in that house with her there. I just couldn't bear to see the disappointment on his face or hear how angry he was with me for almost hitting his little sister.

One day I came home from my shift and Mrs. Benson was in the living room, putting away the sheets and blankets that I "used every night" on the sofa bed.

"What's going on?" I asked, suddenly panicked that I'd outstayed my welcome. She looked up at me and cocked her head to the side.

"Really, Samantha?" She smirked.

I shook my head, feigning ignorance. "Do you not want me to stay anymore? That's okay, I'm sure I can-"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I'm not an idiot, Sam." She laughed. "The least you can do, is give me back my living room."

I frowned, wondering what I was agreeing to here.

She huffed, "Sam, Freddie is going to be leaving for college soon. You need a place to stay. I'll have an empty room."

I blinked a few times and bit my lip hesitantly.

"I'll pay you rent." I blurted out, not wanting to sound like I needed the charity, but at the same time, jumping at the chance to live here.

She smiled. "Yes. You will be."

I breathed a sigh of relief when I knew that she understood.

"So, I'm not going to be sleeping on the couch… even though Freddie is still living here?" I asked, trying to save any semblance of Freddie's innocence for his mother's sake.

She raised one eyebrow at me. "Do I really need to answer that?"

I pursed my lips and shook my head quickly. The less she knew the better. At least we were both on the same page.

"Good. Freddie will be leaving for college soon, and when he's home, I'm sure he'll want to spend all his time with you anyway, so at least this way, I'll be able to spend time with him too." She said matter of factly, as if me sleeping in her son's bedroom was a small price to pay to continue to see him on a regular basis.

I had to admit she was right. If I were living somewhere else, I'd probably make him stay with me. This woman was kinda crafty. I liked how her mind worked.

Before anything else could be said, Freddie walked into the apartment carrying tons of plastic grocery shopping bags. He kissed me quickly and noticed his mother putting away the blankets.

"Ah, so ma told ya about the arrangement, huh?" He said, setting the stuff on the counter.

I nodded and he sent a smile towards his mother, obviously happy with the decision she'd made.

"Come here, I wanna show you something." He said, and grabbed my hand pulling me towards bedroom.

He opened his door and I looked inside.

It looked exactly the same.

I looked at him confused and he laughed.

He pulled me over to the dresser.

"Go ahead. Open it." He said gently.

I opened it and was shocked to find my clothes folded neatly in the drawer. I looked up and noticed my knick knacks sitting on the top of it. I slowly started noticing the smaller details of the room and was overwhelmed.

My Cuttlefish poster was on the far wall. My worn stuffed bear was on the bed. If I had ventured into the bathroom, I probably would have noticed my toiletries in the medicine cabinet. I didn't remember getting any of these things the day we grabbed my stuff.

"Welcome home." He whispered into my ear, kissing the crook of my neck, making me shiver.

"How- When- Where?" I asked, not sure which question I even wanted to ask.

He kissed my hand. "You remember the day we went to get your stuff?"

I looked at him sarcastically. "No. I've completely forgotten. Tell me how that went down again?"

He ignored me and looked at the floor, completely avoiding my gaze. "Well, I _may_ have made an anonymous phone call indicating that there were large amounts of drugs in that house, and there _may_ have been a raid, and Jolene and Chuck _may_ have been arrested on several counts of felony drug possession and a couple of felony weapon charges."

My mouth dropped.

He looked up from the floor at my face anxiously. "You're not upset with me, are you?"

I laughed once. "No. I'm not upset. Though I am wondering why I never did that." I said, shaking my head.

He shrugged. "She is still your mother. I understand why you didn't."

I nodded, not wanting to get into THAT particular emotional fuckery at the moment.

"So, anyway, they weren't there, and I sorta, kinda, broke in-"

"You little delinquent!" I said, smiling.

"I really am becoming a bad influence on you."

He smiled back deviously. "Don't tell anyone." He replied jokingly and he leaned in to touch his lips to mine, pouring all the tenderness he always did into the kiss. I gave it right back, and tried to ignore the gaping hole in my chest that hurt more and more every time he kissed me, or told me loved me, or we made love. Because every time that Freddie or I did any of those things, we were reminded that it was because of them that we didn't have our other best friend. And that was a hard thing to just swallow, no matter how little the rest of the world cared.

* * *

FPOV

I felt both the happiest I'd ever been and the most depressed I'd ever been at the same time. The emotions were so opposite and conflicted, I honestly felt like I could be considered bi-polar. One minute I was deliriously blissful, holding Sam in my arms, and the next moment, I'd remember the pain that holding Sam caused all of us and I'd be crashing into the depths of despair. I saw the same thing happening to Sam. Her eyes would barely flinch when I'd tell her I loved her, or when I'd kiss her forehead. She was remembering that our relationship was the reason that life felt a little emptier. I didn't blame her, it just… was.

Things were decidedly awkward around the apartment. Neither Sam nor I wanted to leave the apartment and when we did, it was in a rush, leaving very quietly, hoping that we wouldn't have to run into Spencer or Carly in the hall.

Spencer had been surprisingly cool about the whole thing. I think he would have been more on our side if he wasn't Carly's older brother, but I could appreciate the loyalty. He let me in to get Sam's stuff one day when Carly was out.

"So, things are going well with you guys?" He asked, scratching his head.

I smiled crookedly. "Yeah. We're… good. Dealing."

He bobbed his head uncomfortably.

"How's Carly?" My voice cracked, my emotions breaking the surface of my level head façade. I hated that I was still so hurt by her assumptions.

Spencer made a face. "She's… she's dealing."

It was vague, but it was honest. Better than telling me she was fine.

While I was there, I heard a knock and panicked for a second, then realized that if it were Carly, she wouldn't have knocked.

Spencer went to get it while I stuffed the rest of Sam's clothes into bags.

I got everything out and headed into the living room, where Spencer was kissing Rachel.

I shook my head and chuckled, wondering how he'd finally gotten her to crack.

Spencer noticed my presence and gestured wildly at me.

"Freddie!" He said excitedly, "I don't think you've had a chance to officially meet Freddie, Rach."

He practically skipped over to me and dragged me over to her.

"Freddie, this is my GIRLFRIEND, Rachel. Rachel, this is Freddie. Half of the reason for all the teenage drama." He explained as Rachel nodded knowingly.

I'm pretty sure my eyebrows shot off my forehead. Girlfriend? GIRLFRIEND? Holy-

"Okay! Enough staring. It's creepy." He smirked, though he was holding back laughter at my reaction to hearing him call a girl his girlfriend. I was dying for the details. What changed her mind? What changed his mind? When did I become so obsessed with romantic gossip? I really needed some more guy friends.

I shook the questions from my head and looked at Rachel. "Good luck with this guy, you'll need it." I said mockingly, ruffling his hair and then patting him on the back.

"I figured as much." She replied sarcastically.

"I should head out." I said and gestured to the door.

"Oh, all right, you got everything?" Spencer asked, a hint of sadness in his tone.

I nodded and turned around to face him. I wanted to say "See ya later", but I didn't even know if that was true.

"Thanks, Spence. Good luck with… everything." I said, my voice thick with emotion, wondering if he would ever talk to us again if Carly wouldn't.

"Hey. No problem." He said softly. "And good luck to you too... with everything." His tone answered my question. I highly doubted that hanging out with Spencer was in my immediate future anymore. I nodded, and went back to my place, putting the rest of Sam's things away while she looked at me sadly from across the room.

After a while, it started driving a stake through us. Not that we were fighting or that I loved her any less, but I found that I was writing more, and she was working more. We didn't touch as constantly as we used to, and the depression was starting to overtake the bliss that was before equally balanced.

College was also looming on the horizon. I was busy packing up my stuff and buying things for my dorm room. I was beyond lucky, and had managed to get a single. Granted, it was tiny, not much bigger than a closet, but I was relieved not to have to deal with a roommate and the distractions that would come with one. I brought Sam along when it was time for me to pick out things like bedding and decorative items, but all she could care about was making sure I had a decent mini-fridge and was obsessed with finding out the restrictions on hot plates and microwaves.

The day I arrived on campus, I was overwhelmingly anxious. I'm sure most of it was regular, freshman on campus syndrome, but another large chunk had to do with the scared look that Sam wore for most of the day when she thought I wasn't looking. My heart was breaking at the thought of only being able to see her on the weekends. It was weird how something I was so excited for a few months ago, was now completely associated with goodbyes and sadness.

My mom cried, of course, and hugged me for far longer than an appropriate hug should go on for. She left after a few hours, leaving Sam and I alone in my room. We had traveled in two cars, since unbeknownst to her, I was giving Sam my car. Or, at least, letting her drive to work and back while I stayed on campus.

"You're giving me your car?" She asked incredulously.

"I'm letting you drive it. It's still mine. So don't sell it." I winked.

She frowned. "Why are you so great to me?" She asked softly.

I was shocked by her insecure question. She hadn't made any of those comments in a while.

"Because I love you." I said honestly.

She nodded, and sighed. "I know. She paused and the silence became deafening. The air in the room became tense and thick. I waited on edge, knowing she needed to get something off her chest. She finally took a breath and quietly spoke.

"I just want to tell you that I'm sorry. For losing Carly."

I squinted at her. "You think it's your fault that Carly's not friends with us?"

She shook her head. "No, it's my fault that Carly's not friends with YOU. If it were just me, I would be fine. But I hate that she's not talking to you because of me."

I shook my head with her. "I don't believe you, Samantha."

She looked up at me.

"You're not fine. You miss Carly, too. But I don't blame you. I don't blame anyone." I shrugged.

"You miss her?" She asked in a small voice.

I bit my lip, not sure how to reply. I wanted to tell her the truth, that I did miss Carly and her warmth, her bubbly, happy personality. But I didn't want Sam to feel like I wanted Carly in my life more than I wanted her.

She sighed. "It's okay, Freddie. I'm not going to freak out if you say yes. I shouldn't have even asked, I already know the answer."

I didn't respond, feeling like I was walking on eggshells.

"Ugh! I hate this!" She exclaimed, getting up from the bed and pacing in my tiny room.

"Sam, C'mere." I said softly, grabbing her hips, pulling her in between my knees and resting my head on her stomach while her hands ran through my hair. I pulled her shirt up and kissed the soft skin on her tummy.

"It will all work out, Sam. It has too." I said into her skin.

She hummed. "I hope you're right."

I lifted her shirt over her head to kiss up her chest softly, reverently, worshipping every inch of her body and mourning the fact that I was going to be missing it for at least a week after tonight.

"I'm not worried, baby." I whispered, letting my instincts take over.

But I was worried. Because while I'm a firm believer in the adage "Time heals all wounds", I'm also a believer in "All good things must come to an end". Because without the constant day to day interactions that we would have had in high school where we would be faced with awkward day after awkward day unless we made up, this just seemed like it could be a natural ending.

And I didn't want to think that college meant an ending for the three of us as best friends. But it was looking like it was a distinct possibility.

* * *

**A/N I'd like to defend my Carly for a minute. You'll get to hear some more from her next chapter, but I felt like a lot of you just wanted me to get you to hate her. I didn't want that. At all. I wanted you to feel sorry for her. Because yes, Carly is spoiled, and that has been mostly her own doing, but she is emotionally stunted. Even in the show, Carly is the character who has changed the least. She really needed a catalyst to jump start her into adulthood, and how to understand adult relationships, both romantic ones and friendships. Sorry if I made you misunderstood, especially if you thought I was trying to make her into this evil, heartless bitch. She's not. She just sees things in black and white, and needs to open up her world to some gray.**

**MY PIMP LIST:**

**Thanks to my wonderful, amazing beta, and good friend, Aussiemma, who I am seriously running out of words for. The story wouldn't be half of what it is without her. She also has her own story, and I just found out I'm making a cameo in a few chapters. So psyched. Kiss with a Fist. Go find, go find, go find.**

**Continued thanks to Axel100 for the psychologically deep PM's. I was able to discuss Borderline Personality Disorder and Saved by the Bell in the same PM. I was kinda impressed with myself.**

**And I bow down to The Earl of Sandwich. Seriously, your reviews and PM's blow my mind. You have greatly affected Emma and I. Truthfully, we're basically writing for your approval now.**

**Now that you've gotten through that EPIC A/N, go review and then get yourself a cookie…or a beer if you're of age :P**


	27. Transformations

A/N Well, this is it, my dears. The last real chapter of What's Right in Front of You. Thank you all for your patience with posting this one. It was an epic one for me. Being that it's the last REAL chapter, I had a hard time with the ending. I'll be honest. I procrastinated because I didn't think it was going to be good enough. I still don't think it's good enough, but I don't think that there is an ending that would have satisfied me. So this is the one you get.

Anyway, It's been a wild ride. I've "met" so many amazing people in this fandom, and I can't tell you what your reviews and PMS did for me. I'm so happy that I was able to keep you mildly entertained for the last 4 months or so, and I hope that inspiration strikes me again sooner rather than later. Put me on author alert if you want to get some future updates on different stories. I'm toying with the idea of a sequel that focuses on Sam and Freddie's adult relationship, but I have a feeling it would just end up being a smut fic…which most of you would probably be into, lol.

There will be an epilogue, but it will be short and sweet and not nearly as wordy as this motherfucker is. And I have NO idea when I'll post it. I back in the real world now of teaching, so my free time is incredibly limited and will be mostly used to BETA for Aussiemma. Cuz she's awesome.

BTW, there's DEFINITELY a lemon in this chap. Be warned.

* * *

Chapter 27

Transformations

I sat in Freddie's- MY room, in my bathrobe and slippers, with Emma chattering on about this show that she'd become obsessed with.

"So it's about this girl who decides to start her own web show with her two best friends... ok, so the show is actually meant for kids but I really don't give a crap. Anyway they have a web show and do all kinds of crazy shit, jump out of airplanes, bikini dog food fights... and heaps of other zany stuff. Oh and main girls' older brother is so fucking hilarious! So the guy is in love with the main girl, but bloody hell if he's not meant to end up with her best friend! They have soooo much chemistry it's crazy, you know this whole love/hate thing going on... they're hot for each other I can feel it. And I swear, if they don't get together I'll flip my lid," She grinned widely.

I rolled my eyes.

"Sounds ridiculous."

"Oh, it is. But I'm completely obsessed anyway," She said, giving me a shrug that said she couldn't care less what my opinion was. I seriously, loved this girl.

"So…" she hedged.

"When's Freddie coming home again?" She asked softly.

I sighed. Freddie had left for college several months ago. He was far enough away where he wasn't living here, but not so far that I couldn't visit or bring him home every weekend. It was okay, it was actually working out much nicer than I had anticipated. Living with Mrs. Benson in Freddie's room for an extremely fair rent price was working out really well, and she was nice enough to turn her head on the weekends when he came home and stayed with me.

I hadn't expected to feel so lonely when he left, and that, coupled with losing my other best friend was sending me into a fairly deep depression.

Instead of answering her I grabbed yet another Tim Tam, this fucking orgasmic Australian cookie that Emma had gotten me hooked on. I bit the opposing corners off as she had shown me, dunked it into my coffee and sucked a few sips through the cookie like a straw. The center becoming all soft and gooey while the outer shell stayed intact. After a few sips I shoved the whole thing in my mouth, thus completing a 'Tim Tam Slam'... my eyes rolling to the back of my head in the process.

"Ung! Vat is hife-fanjing!" I said, my mouth full of chocolatey goodness.

Emma laughed, always enjoying my love of this cookie. "It's what now?"

I swallowed and grabbed another cookie. "LIFE CHANGING!" I said again, and repeated the cookie dunking process.

I swallowed for the second time, moaning the entire time. Emma was looking at me expectantly.

I sighed again. "He'll be home next Wednesday for Thanksgiving week."

She nodded. "And still no word from Ca-"

"No," I interrupted. It hurt too much to think talk or even think about her.

She got really quiet, which was unusual for her. Something was up.

"What's going on Emma?" I asked.

She opened her mouth as if she were going to say something and then shut it again.

"Emma! Just spit it out!"

"I… I'm not supposed to tell you," She said hesitantly then huffed.

"But I'm getting really tired of watching it, so…" She started.

"Well? " I asked impatiently.

"She's been at the restaurant a few nights this week," She admitted sheepishly.

My mouth dropped open. She was home? How did I miss her? I mean, I do live across the hall from her. Though, admittedly, I only leave the room for work or to go see Freddie.

Emma shifted a bit uncomfortably.

"She's been there with… Steven and the other guys."

My eyes bugged out of my head even more. Carly was with Steven? Cute, sweet, Steven? How did she even meet them? When? Did that mean she was partying with them? I couldn't imagine innocent little Carly drinking, let alone getting into bars while she was underage…

I stopped my line of thinking right there. I was doing the exact same thing to her that she had done to me 3 months ago. It was wrong to assume that she was the same unchanged Carly. It was possible that college was broadening her horizons.

Emma was looking at me expectantly.

I regained my composure. "Well, I hope she's doing well," I replied formally.

Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Oh will you come off it!" She exclaimed.

"She's your best friend!" She said, as she threw her hands out.

"Was. Past Tense," I reminded her.

She tsked. "Whatever, you guys have one fight and now you've just lost how many years of friendship?"

I frowned. "It's not like I'm the only one avoiding here!" I said defensively. "She has been home for a week and hasn't said anything to me either!"

Emma sighed. "I know. I just think it's silly."

"I wasn't even the one who did anything WRONG, Emma!" I said, getting angry.

She put up her hands. "Calm down, drama queen!" She admonished.

"I'm not saying that Carly was right, or that you were wrong, I just think this whole thing is silly."

I huffed and sat back against the pillow angrily, crossing my arms over my chest in a full on pout.

Emma softened her tone. "Look, even if you and Carly aren't going to be friends anymore, you at least need some closure."

I growled a little bit, knowing that she was right. Then she laid a low blow.

"And Freddie needs closure too," She added.

Shame and guilt washed over me. I swallowed hard. Yes. Freddie deserved to be on better terms. He deserved to at least be able to acknowledge her if that's what Carly wanted.

"Do you know how much I hate it when you're right?" I asked sarcastically.

"Seriously, Emma, every time you come over here, you have to give me all these damn hard truths. When did you become such a fucking life coach?" I added bitterly.

She just laughed, putting her coat on and getting up to leave. "Someone's gotta call you on your bullshit."

I threw a Tim Tam at her.

She gasped. "That's sacrilege!Wasting a Tim Tam like that!" She said, picking the cookie off the floor and getting ready to shove it in her mouth.

"What the hell do you think you're going to do with that?" I asked and held my hand out expectantly.

She shook her head and placed the cookie in my hand. I blew on it dramatically and took a ferocious bite.

"I see why Freddie loves you. It's because you're such a delicate flower," She said, laughing and walking out the door.

* * *

FPOV

I was really looking forward to Thanksgiving break. College was kicking my ass. I thought it was a good idea to take 12 college courses my first year so that I wouldn't be overwhelmed my senior year. I didn't know if I was going to be overwhelmed senior year anymore, but I sure as hell knew I was overwhelmed now. The kid next door was constantly having party after party, so loudly that it was knocking things off the paper thin walls. My mom was nice enough to buy me the noise reducing headphones, and that really helped with the writing, but I couldn't sleep with them on, and I was exhausted. I could have caught up on sleep when I was home on the weekends, but I was… busy doing other… activities.

It was that weekends with Sam just weren't enough. I craved her every day. I dreamt of her every night. She may have been joking about me opening her Pandora's Box, but I'm not kidding when I say that she opened mine. If I thought that I became a horny teenager when Sam and I were making out, I was now a creepy sex maniac. Not that Sam was complaining. She'd pick me up at my dorm with that sexy smirk on her face and she rarely got in the room before I was attacking her against my door.

It hadn't escaped me how much she had changed in the last few months. No, changed isn't the right word. She was still the same person, but she was tired, depressed, sad. It continued to break my heart to leave her every Sunday.

I knew why she was sad, and truthfully, we shared the same sadness. The only upside was that between focusing on school and missing Sam, there wasn't much time for me to dwell on any of that bullshit. But I was anxious to come home for Thanksgiving. I knew that Carly would be back.

The Sunday before Thanksgiving, on a phone call to my mom, she told me that Spencer mentioned that Carly hadn't been home yet this semester and that she was definitely coming home for Thanksgiving.

"That's not any of my business anymore, ma."

"Hmmm."

I sighed, trying to ready myself to hear her opinion on a topic that I really didn't want to talk about.

"What, ma?" I said, annoyed.

"Freddie, I love you. But you're wrong here. You both are. No, I'm sorry, all three of you are," She started.

"You have all been friends for so long. It's sad to see those years wasted, for it to all end because of stupid assumptions and misunderstandings. It's just not right."

I rubbed my face, this not being the first time she'd had this conversation with me.

"I hear you, ma. We'll try to work it out," I sighed heavily. It was easier to agree with her than to try and get her to see that it may never happen.

She also sighed, dejectedly, knowing that she was being placated.

"So, you'll be home in a few days?" She asked hopefully.

"Of course! I wouldn't miss Thanksgiving for the world!" I said enthusiastically.

I could practically feel her smile over the phone. "Good. Samantha has agreed to help me cook this year."

I raised my eyebrows and my lips lifted into a smile. It was so domestic of Sam to want to cook Thanksgiving dinner.

"She's really taken to the kitchen," My mom continued.

"Really?" I asked, furrowing my brows. I tried to remember if she'd cooked for me since I'd been away at college, but I guess I'd kept her… um… busy. so that By the time we wanted to eat, we were too ravenous for cooking and just ended up eating out. Mmmm. Eating out. I shook myself out of that train of thought disgustingly when I realized I was fantasizing about oral sex with my girlfriend with my mother on the phone.

"Yeah!" She continued. "She's amazing! Some of the things she comes up with… they're so unique. I mean, I wouldn't think to try them on my own, but she doesn't think inside the box when it comes to food."

I nodded knowingly. "She doesn't think inside the box when it comes to anything," I said softly, feeling overwhelmingly proud of my girl.

I got a beep that signified I was getting another call and I pulled my cell phone away from my ear to look at the screen. It was Carly.

"Uhhh… ma? I gotta go," I rushed.

"Okay. See you soon. Love you!" She replied cheerily.

"Love you too, Bye!" I nearly shouted and hit the button that allowed me to take Carly's call.

"Carly?" I answered.

"Hey," She answered back.

"Hey," I repeated.

It was silent for a beat and it was awkward. I felt like I had so much to say and nothing to say at the same time. So many times I wondered what I'd say to Carly if she ever called, and it always wavered between apologizing and explaining the situation like I'd wanted to months ago, and telling her to go fuck herself. Though, admittedly, I knew I'd never follow through with that second one.

"I'm sorry," We both blurted out at the same time, breaking the silence and effectively the tension. We both chuckled.

"I'll go first," She said.

"Okay," I receded.

"I was really, really wrong for how I acted that day," She admitted, sounding very broken up.

I didn't say anything. I agreed with her.

"And I know that it's going to take more than a simple apology from me before things can go back to the way they were… and even then, [I'm not sure they ever can... or if I even want them to...not that I don't want to be friends, it's just… I'm babbling, this isn't coming out the way I intendedit to."

I smiled at her awkwardness. "I understand completely." I took a deep breath. "And I'm sorry too. For the way things went down. We shouldn't have… *I* shouldn't have kept it from you." I didn't want to speak for Sam. I took another deep breath and felt the tension that I'd been holding for months release from my body. Just having her hear my apology was already healing my soul.

"I have a lot to say to you, but I really don't want to do that over the phone," She said, much more confidently.

I nodded in agreement, "Okay."

"Are you going to be home for Thanksgiving?" She asked hopefully.

"Of course! Hasn't my mother already invited you guys over?" I asked. It was tradition for Carly and Spencer to have Thanksgiving dinner with Sam crashing halfway through.

"She invited us… but I don't know…" Carly trailed.

"Ah. Yes," I said, nodding at the unresolved awkwardness that still lingered between Carly and I, and certainly between Carly and Sam.

"Well, I'll be home in a few days. Sometime over Thanksgiving break, why don't we meet up?" I offered.

"Sounds good, Freddie. I miss you guys," She said sadly.

"We miss you too," I admitted. While I didn't want to apologize for Sam, because I didn't know if she was sorry or wanted Carly to know she if she was, there was no doubt that that she missed Carly too.

We said our goodbyes and I started wrapping my head around this Thanksgiving meet up. I was nervous about mentioning it to Sam. I thought that she might get jealous. Not because she looked at Carly as a romantic rival anymore, that was long passed, but that she might be jealous that I was making up with her, rather than Sam making up with her, or both of us simultaneously.

But I bet that Carly called Sam too.

I flipped open my cell and called Sam. It was about time for our nightly phone call anyway. I was preparing for tons of tests this week, so I told Sam that I needed the weekend to study. I hated the thought of spending more time apart, but it was necessary to keep my head above water.

"Hey you," She answered seductively… or maybe not, it just sounded seductive because she was the one saying it.

It caught me off guard. I expected to hear her sounding tense or angry, or sad. Not sexy as fuck.

"Hey," I answered hesitantly.

"What's up?" She asked casually.

"Not much," I answered, "just missing you. I'm bummed I didn't get to see you this weekend."

"I know you are. Cuz I'm awesome. And too good for you." She deadpanned.

I laughed, still waiting for her to tell me if Carly had called.

"So, what's the plan for Turkey day? Your mom is letting me cook, and I have a ton of prep work, but I will need your help anyway. Do you have classes on Wednesday?" She asked, crunching on something loud in the background.

And I knew then that Carly hadn't called her. There's no way Sam would be making plans with me for this weekend without mentioning Carly. She was a good liar, but she wasn't THAT good.

I didn't have any classes on Wednesday, so we made plans for her to come to the dorm late Tuesday night. I thought maybe Carly was going to call her later tonight or maybe the next day. I'd surely hear about it before she came here to get me.

But I was wrong. No call by Monday night, and I was waiting in my dorm room for her anxiously on Tuesday. I still didn't know if Carly had called her, since Sam gave no indication that she had, and I sure didn't want to ask, and therefore tell her that Carly called me.

I still hadn't decided how I was going to feel about it when I heard Sam knock on the door.

"Fredward! Open the door! It's your stripper-gram!" She announced loudly, and I smirked as I imagined all the ears of the horny assholes in the hall perk up. Sure enough, when I opened the door, there were several other guys peeking their heads out their doors and noticing the blonde goddess that stood in front of mine. I shook my head and focused my attention on my girl.

My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. My girl, my Sam was dolled up in the shortest, tightest dress known to mankind. It was strapless, and a shiny black that looked like satin. My fingers were aching to touch it. My eyes trailed down her voluptuous body and rested on the super high black heels that strapped around her ankle. I exhaled shakily, trying desperately to keep my lust in check. Though it was obvious that she didn't want me to keep it in check. She like to push me, she loved to see me get all caveman. I still felt like it was disrespectful to treat her that way, but I could tell she felt victorious when she finally did make me go all feral and animalistic. I raised my eyes up over her body again and tried not to focus solely on the fact that her perfect tits were nearly spilling out of the dress and instead focused on her blonde curls that spilled over her bare shoulders. She had smoky black eyes and shiny pink lips that she was biting confidently. There wasn't an ounce of shyness or self consciousness in her eyes. She exuded sex, she had it emanating off of her in waves. I shot my eyes back out to the assholes who were probably eye fucking the hell out of her and glared at them while I pulled her inside and slammed the door shut, throwing her against it and pulling myself closer to her.

She moaned the second my lips touched hers and I licked the berry tasting gloss off her lips.

"You taste delicious," I whispered.

She pushed her hips off the door into mine and it was my turn to groan.

"I wear 'fuck me' heels and a dress that I can't even breathe in, and you're going to tell me all I needed to do was wear lip gloss?" She teased.

I pushed her harder against the door with my hips and trailed my lips down her neck to her cleavage.

"I love the dress, but I'd rather rip it off you," I growled.

She whimpered and I hastily flipped her around so her chest was pressed against the door. I brushed her hair aside and gently kissed downher shoulder and back, trailing my fingers behind where my lips had just touched. She shuddered and that made me feel good. I loved making her body react to my touch.

I found the tiny zipper of the sexual excuse she called a dress and pulled it down, her arms automatically coming up against the door. She arched her back and gasped as she looked over her shoulder at me, catching my eye and smiling seductively as she stepped out of the dress that pooled at her feet. Now it was my turn to shudder.

She stood there, clad in nothing more than a tiny black g-string and a strapless lace black bra, and the 'fuck me' heels, as she so lovingly put it. Pressed up against my door, with her back arched, smiling at me in a way that teased, "come and get it". Come and get it, I will.

I flipped her around and kissed her deeply, pushing my tongue into her mouth and feeling her own come out and meet mine in a never ending battle for dominance.

"Please, don't tease tonight," she whispered, "it's just been so long."

I nodded, agreeing that tonight was not the night for long drawn out foreplay. Seeing her in the dress was enough foreplay for me.

She pulled my t-shirt over my head and pushed me back towards my bed. We both collapsed onto it intermingling our limbs and refusing to release the other's mouth. Our breathing was heavy and staggered and I could think of nothing but how wonderful it felt to have Sam's hands on me, and have my hands on her.

She rolled me on my back and sat up on the bed, bending down to take off her shoes. I sat up, grabbing her hand to stop her.

"Don't. Leave them on," I commanded before I could even stop myself. I could feel the embarrassment rush to my face as I realized that I'd basically just told my girlfriend that I wanted to fuck her with her sexy heels on.

Sam lips curled into a half smug, half amused smile, but she simply nodded and resumed kissing. She moved to straddle my lap and I moaned as my erection met her warmth.

We hadn't done much in the sexual realm in terms of experimenting with positions, what with both of us being fairly... okay, in my case, entirely, inexperienced. It wasn't to say that I didn't want to, it was just that I was completely fine with the simplicity of what we were doing. _Completely fine. Pffft_. I was deliriously happy with the perfection of what we were doing.

I wanted to give her anything. Everything. I wanted her to have whatever she wanted from me. And that included the way she wanted me in bed. I was doing my best to let her lead me. And it appeared that she wanted to lead me somewhere different tonight. Somewhere that was likely going to be very, very good.

I sat on the bed with her straddling my lap, kissing while my hands traced up her back and sides. I grabbed her ass and pulled her into me, hard. I flicked the clasps of her bra off and squeezed, licked and kissed every inch of her breasts. We continued this until she was squirming in my lap and I desperately needed to get rid of my pants and quench the desire we both needed. But when I went to lift her off me, she stopped me and pulled back. She still looked flushed and sexy, but less confident as before, maybe a little nervous?

"You okay?" I asked softly.

She smiled. "Yeah, I just… I wonder if you want to try something…" She trailed.

My eyebrows raised in surprise. "Yes." I answered.

She giggled. "You don't even know what it is yet!"

I shook my head. "Doesn't matter. You're sitting here almost naked with sexy heels on. I'll want to do whatever the hell it is."

She quirked an eyebrow.

"I wanted to have a gang bang with the rest of the guys in your dorm."

I smirked. "What my Sam wants, my Sam gets." And I went to open the door.

"Get back here!" She hissed.

I laughed and pulled her on top of me again.

She smacked my chest. "You were supposed to tell me you'd never share me."

I laughed again and kissed her chest in between my words, her head falling back as I did so.

"So… if you… don't want… a gang bang… what… DO... you want?"

She hummed as my lips gently kissed her skin and her fingers tugged at my hair. I kissed up her neck and she leaned into mine, kissing and sucking the skin into her mouth while my hips flexed of their own accord. She grazed my earlobe with her teeth while whispering, "I really want you to take me from behind."

I sucked in a breath and forced boring and unsexy thoughts into my head. Golf. Great Aunt Mildred. Calculus. Rotten milk.

Anything to keep me from coming in my pants like I was 14 years old again.

I must have kept still for too long because Sam started moving off of me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" she started, but I held her still on top of me, pushing her into my dick, which was now made of iron.

I had my teeth clenched, but I had to say something to her. I couldn't let her think that she had gone too far or something ludicrous like that.

I looked up into her eyes and the smugness came back to her face. I guess I didn't need words. My face said it all.

I took a deep breath and decided that it was time to play in the big leagues. I leaned into her neck and suckled her hard, nibbling the skin while saying smoothly, "What my Sam wants, my Sam gets."

She shuddered violently and whimpered.

I thought about the logistics for a moment while I kissed her neck and held her tightly against my lap.

Truthfully, I'd fantasized about bending her over my desk in this room more times than I could count, but I figured since this was our first time at this, that maybe that might not be the best option. A little too much depravity.

I figured she'd probably be the most comfortable on the bed. On her hands and knees.

_Ung. I'm not going to last 5 seconds this way._

"It's okay, baby, I don't care… I just really want to try it." She whispered.

"God Damn filter." I muttered.

She chuckled and broke away from me, crawling off my body and up my bed, watching me over her shoulder as she leaned on her forearms with her ass in the air and her back arched down, beckoning me with her eyes.

I stood up and pulled my jeans and boxers down in one shot, not wanting to waste any time that could be spent touching the vision in front of me.

She bit her lip and watched as I kneeled on the bed behind her, feeling her smooth thighs beneath my fingers and tracing them over her firm ass before pulling the minuscule underwear down her legs, over her shoes and tossing them across my shoulder.

The view beneath me was indescribable. Painfully erotic and absurdly sexy. My Sam, my beautiful Sam, offering her body to me, in this animalistic, sexually raw way made me nearly insane with lust. I placed my hands on her hips and lined her up with me before I pushed into her slowly.

"FUCK!" I shouted, surprised at the intensity of the position. She was so much tighter this way. Not that any other way she wasn't tight, but my god. This was like… it was…

"OOH!" She screamed right after me, effectively wiping any logical thought process from my brain.

I pulled out of her almost all the way, and pushed in a little rougher this time, making an involuntary grunt at the gloriously inhuman way she was surrounding me, squeezing me in a way that was already making my toes curl.

"Freddie!" She panted. "Oh! It's so… oh… so good!" She gasped, sounding amazed at the sensation.

It only encouraged me to continue to push a little harder and faster with each thrust, and her corresponding cries got louder and more desperate.

I was pumping in and out with wild abandon now, my hands gripping her hips firmly, my own hips hitting her ass with such resounding force that I thought might be hurting her, but she didn't seem to be complaining.

"JESUS, FREDDIE! SO FUCKING GOOD! DON'T STOP!" She screamed.

Now, I'd made Sam do a lot of things. Moan, groan, cry out, whimper. And until now, I thought I'd made her scream. I'd never made her scream like this.

"PLEASE! PLEASE! I'M SO CLOSE! PLEASE!" She screamed louder. I was fighting my body tooth and nail to keep from coming. I wanted to come so badly, I needed it, like I needed oxygen.

In an action that would either haunt me for the rest of my life or grant me stud status, I did something that only a desperate man who knew his woman well would do.

I spanked her ass. Hard.

And while 10% of me was scared shitless that she was going to stop, turn around and smack my face and walk out, it was the 90% of me that knew that Sam would love that shit that prevailed.

The pitch of her scream nearly hurt my ears as she came forcefully around my dick, milking me around my own spasming cock.

I collapsed onto her, panting, wondering what the hell I was supposed to say now.

_Thanks for letting me fuck you from behind in sexy heels while I spanked your ass?_

_Stop thinking about it Benson, or you'll be ready for round 2._

I prayed my filter was working properly again.

I rolled off of her and pulled her close while our breathing returned to normal.

What should I say? _My god, I can't believe we did that. I can't believe how fucking hot that was. I can't believe my girl is such a screamer. I can't wait to do it again. She's so amazing._

"You're so amazing," I whispered into her ear. It was the only one of my thoughts that was mildly romantic.

She kissed me before murmuring, "I can't wait to do that again."

I chuckled and nodded, my body already reacting to her words. That desk WAS just sitting there…

* * *

The drive back home was tense and uncomfortable for me. I knew that Carly hadn't gotten in touch with Sam, and that made me anxious and confused.

Why would she call just one of us to apologize? And why me? If she needed to apologize to anyone, it should have been Sam. That line of thinking made me angry, but before I could stew about it, I felt a sharp pain on my right bicep.

"OW!" I shouted, rubbing the spot where Sam had just punched.

"Thinking face," She muttered, circling her finger around her own face before pointing at me. "You're doing it."

I huffed. Sometimes Sam paying so much attention to me was a bad thing. I couldn't hide anything from her. Which I guess was the whole point.

"Carly called me."

Sam sat in the passenger seat completely silent. I knew better than to push. She was processing and would respond when she was ready. But the waiting was still torture. I just hoped that she and I would come out of this stronger than before, and that this wouldn't be the most awkward Thanksgiving in the history of mankind.

* * *

**SAM POV**

I was beyond stoked when Mrs. Benson asked me to help her cook for Thanksgiving. Her Turkey Day's were legendary and I always made up some lame ass excuse to make sure that I was there every year.

I had really taken to cooking in the last few months since Freddie had been away. I mean, with my natural love of food, and my serious lack of a social life, I needed to do something to occupy my time. I had told Lou about it, and he had even been letting be try my hand at working in the kitchen for a spell. I couldn't handle the monotony of burgers, fries and BLT's, but Lou was impressed with my mad cooking skills.

About 2 weeks ago, he approached me with a packet from the Seattle Culinary Academy. At first I blew him off, but I started looking at the information and realized that I needed to do something with my life. And I'd be good at this. And I'd love it.

I knew how excited Freddie and Mrs. Benson would be for me. I was saving telling them until Thanksgiving. It felt appropriate to tell them that I want to cook for a living on the biggest eating holiday of the year.

Things were starting to look up for me. I wasn't so worried about my future anymore as a middle age waitress at a diner, but instead as a chef at my own restaurant that proudly served hamburgers with melted peanut butter on top and grilled cheese and marshmallow sandwiches. Hey, don't knock it till you've tried it.

I was so excited about cooking and food and Thanksgiving, and having Freddie back for nearly a week when I noticed he was all quiet and introspective and doing that super annoying thinking face. When I punched him out of it, he spoke three words I equally expected and dreaded.

"Carly called me."

I sat back in my seat and let the thought process begin.

It's not that I didn't expect Carly to call one of us while she was home, but I guess I expected it to be me. Not to sound presumptuous or egotistical, but I had always assumed that we were closer than her and Freddie were. Not to mention the fact that she owed me a much bigger apology for assuming I was whore and was just using Freddie. Obviously, she knew we were still together, and that I was living with his mother for Christ sakes, so she knew I wasn't just using him. So, it irked me that I wasn't included in this little phone reunion.

Freddie drove in silence, patiently waiting for me to say something. This was by far the best thing that he'd learned about me in the last few months. He learned when to shut up and let me process.

I sorted through my thoughts one at a time. Was I mad at Carly? Was I mad at Freddie? I guess it depended on what was said.

"What did she say?" I asked, needing clarification before I could sort anymore.

"She apologized to me. She told me she was wrong. She said she wanted to meet over Thanksgiving," He said shortly. I could tell he was simply summarizing, and not hiding anything.

"Just you?" I asked.

He sorta shrugged. "She didn't mention you. She just said there was a lot more she wanted to say to me and that she should do it in person."

I nodded once and went back to my thought sorting process.

Was I mad at Freddie? No. If Carly had things she wanted to say to him, and him to her, then it's more than reasonable to let it happen without a word from me.

Was I mad at Carly? I don't know if mad was the right word. No, I wasn't angry. I was hurt. I was hurt that she felt that she needed to apologize to Freddie, but not me. I felt hurt that she was choosing to salvage her relationship with Freddie but not ours. It made me bitter.

But this wasn't about me. I would be happy for Freddie.

I could see Freddie watching me out of the corner of his eye. I let out a breath and turned to face him.

"So when are you going to see her?" I asked.

He let out a sigh of relief, probably worried that I might have started yelling, or worse, crying.

"I'm not sure, sometime this weekend." He picked up my hand and threaded his fingers in mine.

"But it doesn't matter right now. Right now I want to think about you. I'm going to spend the rest of the drive thinking about you in that black dress and the 'fu-… the 'do me' heels."

I let out a gaffaw.

"You can't say 'fuck me'?" I giggled.

He blushed. "It's not that I can't say it. I'm just not used to talking so…."

I raised an eyebrow. "Dirty?"

He squirmed in his seat.

"Oh no, you started this buddy! You were trying to lighten the mood by distracting me with remembering last night and you can't even say the words?" I laughed.

He grumbled. "I'm trying anyway, but it looks like I'm distracting you by reminding you of your other favorite pastime. Torturing me."

I leaned over the console and murmured seductively in his ear. "I do love teasing you."

"Sam," He warned.

"What?" I said innocently, batting my eyelashes and biting my lip in the way that makes his eyes glaze over. "I'm not allowed to tell you how much I love making you beg me to do all the naughty things that you love to do?"

"Samantha," He warned again, this time more harshly.

I leaned over the console again. "My favorite is when you beg to taste me."

And with that, the mood in the car turned from angsty to lusty, while Freddie began scouring the dark road for a secluded spot.

* * *

Thanksgiving went off without a hitch of course, and everyone loved my oddball combinations and delicious side dishes. Of course, Mrs. Benson's turkey was beyond amazing and I ate so much I wasn't sure that even my metabolism was up for the job.

I stood up after the meal and announced my plans to attend culinary school and was met with giant smiles and exclamations of congratulations.

Freddie stood up and spun me around, kissing my neck and telling me how proud he was, and I'm pretty sure Mrs. Benson had tears in her eyes. I'd never felt so loved in my life. And not just romantically, but I felt like I was part of their family. My joy was tainted when I realized how much I missed my other family. The one across the hall who no doubt would have been thrilled for me six months ago as well.

As Freddie and I were doing the dishes, his cell phone rang and our eyes met. We both knew who it was.

He turned around and leaned his back against the counter, answering the phone, watching me the whole time.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Just finished eating dinner. How about you?"

"Cool."

"Umm… I'm not sure."

I closed my eyes and nodded, knowing that she was trying to set up a meeting time and giving him my silent permission to meet with her. I opened my eyes when I didn't hear him say anything else and he mouthed,

_Are you sure?_

His eyes were so full of concern and worry that I smiled and touched his cheek. I nodded again and kissed his forehead.

"Okay, yeah, that's fine. See you then," He said, and flipped the phone shut.

He pulled me in between his legs and wrapped his arms around me while I snuggled into his chest, and he kissed the top of my head.

We stood like that for a while, until the tryptophan from the turkey started kicking in and I knew I was in dire need of a nap.

I pulled away and looked up at him.

"When?"

"Few minutes."

"K. I'm gonna go take a nap," I said, void of any emotion.

"K. Love you," He said, kissing my cheek reverently and then my lips.

"So much," I whispered back, squeezing him around his waist and heading back to my bedroom.

I'm not sure how long I slept, but I woke up when I heard the door slam and had a serious bout of déjà vu when Freddie walked into the bedroom, looking pissed as hell.

But he looked over at me and smiled widely, all traces of anger gone.

"You look adorable."

I groaned, knowing damn well that my hair was probably sticking up in 20 different directions and I probably had pillow lines all over my face.

"So what happened?" I asked, my voice still thick with sleep.

"Nothing worth mentioning."

I looked at him expectantly. Surely he wasn't going to leave me with that.

He shook his head again.

"Seriously, Sam, it's not worth mentioning."

I blinked a few times, trying to come to grips with the idea that I wasn't going to find out what they talked about.

Finally, he sighed and pulled me into his side, kicked off his shoes and we drifted off into unconscious together.

* * *

Things got decidedly better after Thanksgiving. The lingering sadness that hung over us seemed to lift after Freddie's disastrous meeting with Carly. Well, I don't know that it was disastrous, but it certainly wasn't celebratory. He still refused to talk about what happened, but there wasn't any hesitation about it, he simply brushed it off, like it was a work task that was now over, and no longer needed to be worried about.

Culinary school was amazing. I was able to apply form some pretty amazing financial aid and scholarships, and was going for practically nothing, and I was able to get all my frustrations and worries out when I cooked and baked. And ate. It was the perfect Sam therapy.

I'd like to see a shrink do what puff pastry and chocolate tortes can do.

It was a random Tuesday in March when Mrs. Benson and I were tasting my latest therapy when we heard an unexpected knock.

I answered it, and found a very nervous looking Carly on the other side.

"Hey," She said, her voice shaking a bit as she shifted her weight from side to side.

"Hey," I said, bobbing my head in a very, "What the hell are you doing here" fashion.

Carly cleared her throat.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?"

I stood there, wondering how satisfying it would feel to slam the door in her face. But then I decided I actually did want to hear what she had to say.

"Sure," I said, moving to the side to allow her to come in.

"We can go to my room," I announced, shooting Mrs. Benson a look that said, "What the hell is she doing here?" Mrs. Benson shook her head and shrugged.

Carly looked around my room and must have noticed that it really wasn't Freddie's room anymore. Most of his personal affects had been taken with him to his dorm room. Including the porn that no longer resided in the bedside table.

She smiled. "I like it. You've Sam-ified it."

I stared at her expectantly, knowing that she didn't come here to check out my room.

She sighed and started pacing.

"I've been practicing this for a long time, but I'm nervous," She started.

I sat down on the bed and got comfortable.

"First of all, I'm sorry for the way I reacted to you and Freddie. I know what I said was inexcusable and I can't even begin to understand how badly that hurt you."

As far as apologies go, I had to admit, she had a good start.

"My whole life, I've always gotten everything I've ever wanted. All the time. I never thought that I was spoiled, I always just assumed that I only wanted what was best for people. That I've only ever wanted what other people wanted as well. Which is why I couldn't understand why he didn't want me anymore. It was like, him loving someone else was almost an impossibility. The day that I freaked out wasn't really even about you guys, it was just me realizing that I couldn't control my little universe like I thought I could. I never thought anyone could really change. Not you, Not Freddie, Not even Spencer. Oh god, you should have seen my toddler temper tantrum when I found out that Rachel was moving in." She giggled.

I quirked an eyebrow. I could imagine such a temper tantrum.

Her giggle died down immediately.

"Anyway. It was really bad for me for a while. But I was home one weekend, back in October, and I ran into Steven. I didn't know who he was of course, but he knew who I was, and he knew you," She looked up at me, waiting for my reaction, I guess, but I had none. I already knew that she'd met Steven.

"He and I started talking on the phone a lot, and when I came home, we'd hang out, and… Sam, he's made me see what a selfish, snotty little brat I was!" She laughed again, but this time, I smirked with her.

"I would complain about… anything, or say my opinion on something, and he would just question me in a way that made me turn my brain upside down!" She exclaimed.

I smiled harder, thinking of the way my brain felt after just one evening with Steven. I can only imagine the way he would have brain ninja'd my ass if he were a constant in my life.

"By Thanksgiving…" she said, softly. "I'd figured out how horribly I'd misjudged you both, and how terribly I'd messed up, and I was worried that I was too late. But Steven convinced me to try. And so I called Freddie first. Strictly because he was first alphabetically in my phone," She rushed the last sentence.

"I don't know how much he told you," She started, hesitantly.

I shook my head. "He wouldn't tell me anything," I stated in an emotionless voice.

She nodded. "That was probably a good thing. I… I saw him and even though I knew that you guys were together, and I knew that you weren't using him or whatever, I still had this fierce need to protect him. From you," She said, ashamed.

I wanted to be angry, but the guilt in her voice quelled the notion.

Then she must have thought of something amusing because a smirk covered her face and she shook her head. "No worries, though, he put me in my fucking place. He gave me the last kick in the ass I needed to get rid of the lingering god complex I had going on. But then I was worried that he told you what I said, and that it would have only made things worse between us, so I didn't call. But I realize now, that I need to apologize, that it doesn't matter how much you hate me, that you deserve to know how sorry I am, and how much I miss you. That I really want you back in my life."

She was silent then, plopping down the the bed next to me.

I started processing everything she had just said. She knew me as well as Freddie did and waited patiently for me to start sorting.

I not only had to sort through this conversation, but the last 9 months of my life. I saw how drastically it had changed. I'd gone from childhood to adulthood nearly overnight. I'd lost so much, but I'd gained so much more. It dawned on me that I didn't want Carly, my childhood best friend back, I wanted this Carly to be my friend. I wanted this Carly, who I could tell the truth to without fear of being judged. I may have lost my childhood best friend, but I think I was about to gain my adult one. She was still staring at me, waiting on me to say something.

"Okay." I said.

"Okay?" She repeated, shocked.

"Yeah. We gotta start somewhere." I smiled.

She smiled back and she came over to hug me, but then changed her mind. I rolled my eyes and grabbed her for a hug, letting go of that last little bit of old Sam that rejected any sort of affection. Letting go of the old Sam who denied herself the friends and family and love that was always there because she didn't think she was worthy.

I wasn't a better person. I'd just finally realized what was right in front of me.

* * *

A/N

Time for my Emmy speech.

First and foremost, I'd like to thank Emma (Aussiemma) who made this whole thing possible. She was my accountability guru, keeping tabs on my developing chapters, plots, character development, dialogue coach, and all around life therapist. If it weren't for her, you all would DEFINITELY not have any of the last 10 chapters. Thank you so much bb. PS, She is writing Kiss with a Fist, and if you liked this, you can feed your mature fic addiction with her story.

Oh, and those Tim Tams that Sam was eating at the beginning of the chapter? Yeah, Ms Emma from Australia sent me a box of Australian goodness and Tim Tams were in there, of which I am now a full blown ADDICT. Imagine being hooked on a brand of heroin that you can only get in AUSTRALIA. Yeah. Not good. But SOOOO good at the same time.

Axel100, for his witty puns and sexual double entendres. And for his insight into the male brain. He was my Freddie reference guide. Thank you so much. PS. HE has a kick ass fic called Chasing their Horizon. Go read and review. Now.

The Earl of Sandwich who really kicked my ass into gear and made me finish this chapter. He also writes AMAZING reviews that make me feel like my chapter are made of pure gold…until I re-read them. :P He also writes amazingness. Go. Read. Reflect. Review.

There. I've given you plenty of recs to read in place of my own.

And to the rest of you beautiful, wonderful people who reviewed every chapter, or just one. Thank you Thank you Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.

Now, hit the button and leave me one more of those delicious reviews that I crave so much. Also, if you can think of a good song that fits the fic, I will be compiling a soundtrack and post it along with the epilogue..


	28. Author's Note

**After struggling and struggling (and struggling) I've decided I don't want an epilogue. It will only tie the story up in a pretty little bow and I don't want that. I want to leave it as it is. Where Sam and Carly are still working their shit out.**

**I was going to write an epilogue with weddings and babies for people but it just felt contrived and forced, and in reality, I have no idea if Sam is ever that girl that gets married.**

**I'm very happy with this choice, because it leaves me the opportunity to keep these characters open, in case I ever want to pick up where I left off. Which I very well might do. And I definitely plan on continuing with outtakes as well.**

**Also, I did a blatant lemon for my friend The Earl of Sandwich. You can (and should) read his story because it's amazing, but you don't need to read his fic to read my lemon. It's just good, clean….um….it's just a dirty, dirty hot time.**

**For now, I'm taking a little break, focusing on my last year in college (yes, I know I'm 28 and still in college, but I'm married with kids, give me a fucking break ), where student teaching, getting my teaching license and a future psychology internship take up most of my time. Anything left then goes to my husband and my 5 and 3 year old, and anything left after THAT goes to my favoritest person on the planet, Miss Emma (otherwise known as the great Aussiemma). I'm trying hard to keep her focused on her story, which is all sorts of awesome, anything left after THAT goes to The Earl. He likes to make me look up random things on Wikipedia for sport. (Did you know that the term "I'm just 'Joshing" ya" came about from a man named Josh who was trying to pass off fake nickels? True story. :P)**

**I want to thank you again for all the praise, compliments and constructive criticism I've received from you all. This is a great community of writers and I'm lucky to have the BEST reviewers on the planet.**

**And now…changing the story status from "in-progress" to "complete". Sigh.**


	29. iNeed to vent

iNeed to VENT!

I'm assuming that since you all read iCarly fanfiction, that you watch the show. My daughter loves it, and of course, I love the characters. But I need to vent about something that really bugged me over this weekend.

After the show, Dan Schneider (the writer of the show) posted on his twitter asking how we liked the show. Many people posted (including my BBFF= Beta Best Friend Forever, Emma) about how disappointed they were in the show and how it felt as if it was a slap in the face to the fans who put money in his pocket.

He, or another administrator that runs his blogs, deleted all the negative comments. Every single one.

The next morning, I posted this comment.

"**I agree with the majority of posters above. It's not that we love to bash the show. If we truly hated the show, we wouldn't be watching in the first place. Television shows, just like books, movies and music, are completely avoidable with the simple flip of the channel. What I, and most of the people here are disappointed by, is the way the show was being promoted. This episode was clearly geared toward those of us interested in the progression of the romantic subplot. A subplot that HAS been featured in more than one episode. I'm not being a "pearpad" girl who is geekily pointing out instances in which "Carly looked at Freddie in a clearly loving way", but am referring to the episodes in which a romantic relationship was the central plot. You've focused on both Sam and Freddie and Carly and Freddie in previous episodes. It seems like a cheap shot to admonish the fans about "obsessing" over the romantic relationships, when you are the one who fostered it in the first place.**

**Your show is a comedy. It is funny. But in order for people to care about a show, they have to care about the characters. And your characters are growing up. Romantic relationships are a part of growing up. Avoiding that altogether is unrealistic. The boy/girl dynamic is complex and endearing, but you are cheapening it by insisting that it doesn't exist in your world. **

**I understand your show is geared toward younger audiences. I understand that your show will never go into a "Dawson's Creek"-like territory. But even my 5 year old daughter is aware that "Freddie should be with Carly". (For the record, I'm a silent Sam and Freddie fan, I root for the underdog). Even my young daughter understands that there have been romantic undertones in the episodes. **

**So, please stop offending you're fanbase, by assuming that we're all horny, rabid fans that just want to see them make out when you've done nothing to provoke us. Please. It's insulting."**

It got to be one of the highest rated comments on the blog, and then it was deleted. At first just more of the negative comments, and then ultimately the entire post asking for opinions on the episodes. It's clear that it was not well received.

What I'm more upset about is not the slap in the face to the fans. It's not the lack of character development, it's not the false advertising of shipping, it's the fact that this sad, insecure man cannot handle criticism. I'm very disillusioned with the show at this point, and would stop watching, if I weren't for Nathan's VERY LEGAL beefy arms.

Seriously, that dude is jacked now. Yum.

Anyway, the point of this rant is nothing. There is no point, but to know that at least 110 or so of you will get an email saying that there's a new chapter and you'll then be pissed at me because it's just a 2 page rant. My bad.

But I am working. I swear. I've got a plot of a new fic almost all the way outlined, and I've got some FANTASMICAL one shots that are begging to be typed. And Christmas break is right around the corner. So, smut will be headed your way soon. :)

Thanks for your time. Have a great Thanksgiving.

Love,

iCarlyAngst


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